Dangerous Paths of Mice and Men
by teh 4th freakee fairet
Summary: Revolves around a strange disruption in the human race, causing all to become part animal. McGee and the team attempt to return normalcy to their lives, but 'normal' is just something that doesn't like NCIS- or McGee for that matter. AU I suppose!
1. Growing Pains

**-sigh- I really didn't want my first NCIS (my newest and guiltiest obsession) fanfic to be a gussied-up crackfic. I like this idea _so _much tho. I hope you enjoy it too! **

**Summary**: [Ever seen a crackfic gone too far? Well, now you will.] Revolves around a strange disruption in the human race, causing everyone to become part animal. Follows McGee as he and the team attempt to continue their jobs in a strange world- but it seems normal is just something that doesn't work with NCIS, or McGee.

**Rating**: Some cussing and violence later on- I'll give it a T.

**Pairings**: So far, none. But I'll take suggestions for who McGee and the rest of the cast should end up with ;3

Regular text.

"Speaking."

_Thinking_.

(Author's notes within story.)

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**The Dangerous Paths of Mice and Men**

_Chapter One: Growing Pains_

Timothy rolled over in his sleep, groaning as the sheets twisted up his legs. Unbeknownst to him, his dog Jethro sat beside the bed, a worried whine pealing from him. The young agent turned restlessly again, pained sounds growing in his throat, and Jethro went from a whine to a bark. Timothy's face was contorted in pain and he clutched the covers in his fists.

In his dream, Timothy was in a pool, naked, but the pool wasn't filled with water- It was filled with hot tar. It was agonizing- his skin burned at the searing substance's temperature, and his eyes, throat and ears stung from the fumes. It was horrible, and for the life of him, the more he struggled, the harder it became to keep his head above the surface. Before he knew it, he was being sucked under, thrashing and crying out for help.

"Boss! Ziva! Abby!!" Timothy felt a bizarre compulsion to be near his team. They always helped him, and he would always help them if they needed it. He even swallowed his pride and shouted, "Tony!?" The scent of the tar and a million other terrible things- rotting bodies from crime scenes flashed in his mind's eye- permeated his nose, despite the lack of air. He gasped but tar seeped in, burning the sensitive nerves of his mouth. His face was beyond scalded and he realized that this couldn't be tar. It was just darkness, dragging him down.

For some reason, he felt annoyed at this.

_Don't be such a wimp_, _Timmy_, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth as he hung suspended in the terrible darkness. _This isn't tar, and it can't kill me. I will not give up to this- this darkness! Tony would never get off my case if I got beat up by a freakin' shadow. _He clawed up and, with surprising ease caused by this revelation, or perhaps his new vindication, burst to the surface. Grinning, Timothy climbed up onto soft, solid ground, completely unscathed- except for one black smudge of what seemed to be tar on his forehead.

For some reason, even with the familiar blankets wrapped around him and the sound and smell of Jethro nearby, he was sure he was still dreaming. Or maybe he was on some hallucinogen. Either way, his dark bedroom wasn't dark, his tired body wasn't tired, and he could tell _exactly_ where he'd been in the past four days- entirely from the scents in his dirty clothes basket. He smiled, enjoying the strange, enriched sensory state he was in and wondered where this dream would take him.

He climbed out of bed and realized with a stomach-churning jolt that he was _not _dreaming. His thoughts were perfectly clear and gathered, and the typical dream state mindset incapable of a continuous train of thought was not distracting him. He shivered at a sudden unnerved feeling and his ear twitched. _What's wrong with me?_ he thought then once again, stopped dead. His ear _twitched_?

_Ears don't twitch_, he thought in a panic and dove for the bathroom. _Humans can't see in the dark, and they certainly can't smell sea salt and motor oil from a shipyard they'd been to half a week ago. _Before he even flipped the light on, Timothy stared in shock at the person in the mirror, perfectly illuminated in the darkness, if that's what one could call it.

"Oh, my god," he murmured to himself and touched the strange appendages on either side of his head. "I'm part... _something_!" The snowy white, pointed ears seemed cat-like to him, but there was an array of animals in the kingdom that had pointed ears. Dogs? Bats? Tigers? In a moment of stunned hysteria, the idea distantly appealed to him. _Tiger_, he thought with a short, slightly crazed laugh. _Roar_. Then he realized a new sensation that made him just slump in resigned annoyance.

"A tail? For the love of god, I'll never be able to show my face again! Maybe if I find a really good plastic surgeon, or... " Even before the sentence completely left his lips, Timothy felt an unpleasant stirring at the idea.

It was a Gibbs-esque hunch, but his gut said that it would be a _bad_ idea to surgically remove the offending parts. It would be like lopping off a hand or poking out an eye. He didn't like it, but he _knew_ that this was a deep part of him. A part of him that, now that it was one with him, could not be undone or detached.

Timothy glared at the perfectly balanced person in the mirror and murmured, "Now what?"

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**So thar u go. Four reviews, and I update, hands down. Take it or leave it ;3 i mean, pwetty pwease, oh glorious and merciful reviewers? ... What, too much? Yeah, I thought so . Anyway, this should be fun! Please review so I can keep writing! It's so entertaining- for the both of us you see XD  
**


	2. Telephone Tag

**Yaaay chappie 2, I really like this story ;3 It's been a fairly easy write, so far...**

**(cut out intro- word count too high!)**

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_Chapter Two: Telephone Tag_

Timothy did the only thing he could think of. Who does one call in times of desperation?

It barely rang once, if even that. "Boss?"

"McGee? Hold-hold on, I've got an incoming call."

Timothy's phone gave a soft beep and he pulled it away from his face. He had an incoming call too- from Abby. "Ah, me too boss. It's Abby- I'm gonna answer her, okay?" But he realized he was talking to air. Timothy shook his head and pressed the green Talk button, then shuddered at the bizarre hum that came through the speaker.

"Timmy!"

"Abby, what is that noise?! I think my ears are bleeding."

"Oh, my god, Tim, you are _not_ going to believe what just happened!"

Timothy stopped dead, ignoring the shrill, ear-piercing sound just long enough to say, "Does it involve a strange dream and animal pieces?"

"Yes, but-" Abby stopped, and the sound raised a pitch- thankfully a tad to high for Timothy to continue to hear. He sighed in relief. "Oh. My. _God_! It happened to you too! How do you like the wings?"

Timothy's face squinched in confusion. "Wings?"

"You don't have the wings? Huh, I don't think there are any wingless bats, McGee."

"_Bat_? You have _bat _wings?"

"And ears! They are _so _epic, I can't wait to show you. Wait, what do you have?"

For the first time that night, his hysterical tone was overpowered- by embarrassment. He dropped a tone. "I-I think they're cat... ears. And tail."

The squeal of mirth from the other end of the line was not too high to ear, and Timothy actually had to pull the phone away and blink for several moments. "Tim, you have to come here _now_. I have to see this." Timothy's stomach lurched.

"Are you nuts?! We can't go out in public like this! We'll be... lynched, or something. That, or worshipped by- cult weirdoes. It- we just-"

A soft beep interrupted him, from Abby's end. "Oh, hold on Timmy, I've got a call. Oh! It's Gibbs! Call you back in a sec, 'k?" She was gone before Timothy could reply.

"Ah, okay... " Timothy pulled the phone away and hung up. Staring at the innocent-looking cell, he jumped when it rang again. The ID read 'Ziva'. He answered. "Hello?"

There was a sniffle on the other end. "M-McGee?"

Timothy's gut lurched. "Ziva, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing, I-" There was a slur of a foreign language, which sounded both despairing and angry. "Oh, McGee, I know you are quite the- the intellect- God, I hate English! McGee, I have a problem, and I do not know how to- explain this-"

Timothy's brow furrowed. "Does it include a bad night and some sort of animal?"

There was a heartbeat of surprise. "Y-yes! Do not tell me that you too-"

"Yeah, I think all of us have a little 'problem', Ziva. At least, Abby and I do. I think Gibbs may as well-" Once, again a soft beep interrupted McGee. Timothy glanced at the phone- it was Tony. "Geez, why is everyone calling me about this?" he muttered but couldn't help but smile. At least he was actively sought out in the loop of information among his friends. "Okay, Ziva, can you stay at you're apartment until i call you back? I think it'll only be a few minutes."

"O-Okay, Mcg- I mean, Tim." He could practically see the anxiety on her face. Maybe she was a trained assassin, able to kill a man 18 different ways with a paper clip, but she was allotted some human tendencies. Worrying was one of them. "I-I will wait."

"Call you back," Timothy said, hoping to convey his supportive smile via tone, then answered Tony. "McGee."

"P-Probie! I thought you'd never answer." The tone on the other end was amusingly phony- someone obviously flustered faking bravado. "What are you doing-"

Timothy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Does this have to do with animal ears?"

" ... You too, then?" The tone had gone deadly cold with seriousness.

"Yeah. Did you talk to-"

"-Gibbs, yeah. He wants us to meet at Abby's place."

Timothy pulled up a map in his mind's eye and realized her place was the closest to everyone else's- a center point. "Gotcha. I'll grab Ziva and be there in ten." There was a stifled laugh on the other end.

"Don't let her drive!" Tony was obviously exhausted and freaked out as his thoughts spun off like Timothy's had earlier. "I bet she's a bear, or a rabid lion. And you're a little kitty!" Timothy was shocked into silence for a heartbeat too long as he listened to the damning wordlessness. "Oh, my god. You are a kitty, aren't you?"

Silence. "Tiger, actually. See you in ten." Timothy promptly hung up and dialed Ziva. When she was answered, she seemed a tad more collected.

"Ziva, Tony just called. He wants to meet at Abby's. Do you want me to pick you up? I think it'd be safer in num-"

"Yes, that is fine, Tim." There was a slight pause. "I will be outside."

"No, Ziva, don't just stand outside! You'll get-" But he realized she'd hung up at the sound of a dial tone. "Damn!" he muttered as he pulled on some pants, grabbed his keys and rushed out, white tail narrowly avoiding being caught in the door.

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**All right, that's it. Now i'm gonna update in a week, regardless of reviews! Mostly cuz I know this one isn't gonna get that many in the first place D: oh well, as long as one person enjoys it, it's all good.**


	3. How Much is that Doggie in the Window

**CHAP-TARR THUH-REEEEEE. **

**win. I totally wrote this awesomely. kinda of. anyways, I hope people ****are ****still reading this. o.o -whispers- r&rplz  
**

**(cut out intro- word count too high!)**

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_Chapter Three: How Much is that Doggie in the Window  
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Timothy pulled to a stop in front of the apartments where Ziva lived. The ride over had been the eeriest seven minutes of his life. There were absolutely no people on the streets- just the occasion car speeding by and the almost constant scream of sirens in the distance. It made him wonder just how many people had been affected.

Stepping out of his car, Timothy cringed, ears flattened as if someone were waiting just out of sight to pump him full of lead. Several seconds passed and nothing happened. Timothy dared to relax, looked up and nearly screamed in terror.

"Wow, McGee, relax." Ziva had appeared from the shadowed building front and approached him in utter silence in the few seconds that he'd closed his eyes. Her combat training had combined with her new animal stealth and made her as soundless as mist. "I am not going to hurt you."

Timothy huffed, stepping closer to her protectively and glancing around like an imaginary mob with pitchforks were already approaching. His ear twitched in annoyance at her blasé attitude. "You realize that we're probably going to have to go into hiding or something? If anyone sees us-"

"Oh it is fine. It is happening to everyone."

Timothy blinked. That changed things. "How do you know?"

"The news, McGee. I do have a TV and this seemed like a time to use it. Every station has emergency reports saying what all the other reporters are saying- that they have no idea what is going on. They do look kind of cute with their little ears though. Yours are too, McGee. What are you, a kitty cat?"

Switching from wary to annoyed in a heartbeat, Timothy pulled back. "No! Well, maybe." He looked at his tail- long, thin and white- and sighed. How completely not terrifying. Ziva, however, had a much more feral aura about her. The rounded ears, the long, thick tail… "What are _you_, a lion?"

She flashed a toothy grin and purred- Timothy instantly wondered if he could do that. At least she was doing much better than when she had called. "I do not know, but I am liking it more by the minute. I have never felt so- alert. In tune with my environment. I-I suppose this should feel wrong, but I can't imagine… "

Timothy filled in for her. "Not having it? I figured the same thing when I woke up."

There was a lull as they stood in the dark parking lot, sirens wailing far away in multiple directions. The hospitals must have been overflowing. Timothy sighed curtly.

"We, uh, better get going?"

Ziva nodded. "Yes. May I… ?" she asked, eyeing his keys.

"No. C'mon, get in- on the _passenger's_ side, thank you."

Fifteen minutes later, after a harrowing journey up Abby's stairs- which basically constituted of Timothy creeping up and Ziva following, shaking her head at his paranoia- they were ushered in by a bouncing figure. Clad in lacy black, she looked like some sort of dark angel with her leathery, black wings spilling behind her. Both Timothy and Ziva cringed at the high pitched hum she emanated.

Abby was still bursting with excitement, grinning hugely, her high, pointed ears nearly quivering. "Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god-"

Timothy clutched at his ears. "Abby!"

"Oh, my god, oh, my god-"

Ziva tried, cutting in with her signature, biting voice. "_Abby!_"

Abby winced at the volume and went still. "Geez, what is it, Miss Stoic-face Warrior?" The hum was still going strong. Ziva growled. Timothy again wondered if he could do the same.

"Please Abby, stop making that sound! It is very painful."

"What sound?"

Timothy exchanged an exasperated look with Ziva. "You're making a sound. My ears are basically bleeding. Are you, uh, echo-locating or something without knowing it?"

Turning with precise agility in her nearly dark apartment, Abby was surprised by the speculation. The length of her blinks were lasting several seconds longer than they had before. In fact, had she just been walking around with her apartment with her eyes closed? She focused on some inner balances and reeled in conscious thought on this _new_ sense, understanding it, controlling it…

The sound gradually stopped. Abby stood completely motionless, awe plain on her face. "Wow. That's _amazing._" She was now whispering and, without the irritating hum, an unnerving silence descended around her words. They unconsciously grew tense. Sensing the dangerously loaded moment, Timothy slipped to the lights and flicked them on. All three of them instantly groaned at the brightness and he flipped a few back off.

As they recovered, someone rapped on the door. "Abby? Are you okay? Lemme in, it's Tony."

A lower voice called out, near the first. "And Gibbs."

Abby threw open the door and hugged Tony, then Gibbs, her broad smile back. They couldn't help but mirror the expression. A good mood from Abby was infectious.

She, as well as Timothy and Ziva, began to laugh. Gibbs' and Tony's new appendages were nearly identical.

"Gibbs, you old dog, you," Abby teased as the older man closed the door behind him. He smiled back and she noticed his eyes- they'd turned an amber-y color. His ears were narrow and dark, the point where they met hair lost due to the matching color. His tail was low and coarse-looking. He stood easily, yet taut- like a finely tuned bow.

Tony, however, had an uneasy stance. He probably didn't even realize how he was scanning the room, looking beyond the familiar faces. Only once his look-over was complete did he turn his attention to his friends and speak. His ears were pointier than Gibbs', and his tail was the exact same shape- a wolf-y tail- but smooth and utterly black. Some purebred, no doubt.

He grinned at Timothy and walked up to him. Timothy leaned back.

"Tony, you're in my bubble," the younger man said dryly.

Tony ignored his comment, still smiling. He reached up and rubbed Timothy's ears between his pointers and thumbs. "Tiger, my ass. Look at these cute, widdle ears. That's just sad, McGee. You're a cat. A house pet. A lazy house pet. That sleeps like, 20 hours a day."

Timothy smacked his hands away and whipped his white tail, bristling. Suddenly, for some unfathomable reason, Tony felt a sliver of fear. Timothy looked… formidable. Like, it would hurt to fight him. Tension again sprang up in the room. Apparently, it was never far away.

Timothy's tone, however, smoothed out the situation. "Oh, just look at _you_, Tony! You're a little doggy. Bark bark."

Gibbs smiled at the teasing as Tony dug back. The conversation was stable now, despite the insulting nature of it. They'd just have to remember not give each other any unexpected physical contact. It seemed to be quite the trigger, if it could turn Timothy from friendly kitty to fearsome tiger in a heartbeat.

"Hey, I'll muzzle you, Probie."

"Someone needs to put you on a leash, Tony."

"Um, as much as I love bondage, enough with the bad puns." Abby grinned as the two boys looked horrified at how their jibes could be misconstrued. "Gibbs, oh powerful alpha," she said turning to the older man. "What is our battle plan?"

Gibbs felt the focus shift to him. Four pairs of strangely-colored eyes trained onto him. Oh great. Since when did he have a plan for something like _this _insanity?

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**Okayjustafewreviewsandi'llupdateiswearplzzz :3 luvv uuuu ;D**


	4. Deceivingly Anticlimactic

**Gah, I can't wait to post the next chapter! It's gonna be so much fun, you just wait and see! XD oh geez, long chappie, but well worth it! I ALSO WANT TO THANK EACH AND EVERY READER, REVIEWER, FAVORITE-ER AND ALERT-ER! YOU MAKE MY WORlD GO ROUND! And that makes me dizzy sometimes :3  
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**(cut out intro info- word count's too high!)**

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_Chapter Four: Deceivingly Anticlimactic_

Gibbs was still smiling his amused half-smile as the team turned to him for said 'battle plan'. However, there didn't seem to be much of a battle.

Listening to the radio on the way over, Gibbs assumed the government officials were scrambling to contain public fear. Word had been streaming in from the corners of the globe that, from the newborn infants to the ninety-year-olds, every person had been affected, regardless of location. There was no mental altercation, no reason for anyone to panic. It was being drilled into their heads from the start by direct quote from the Surgeon General himself-

"_There is no need to panic. We as Americans should pride ourselves on our ability to stay calm in turbulent times. We stand united and strong while our neighbors may turn in on themselves and collapse. I repeat, there is no need to panic. There is no need to panic."_

It had been a phrase he'd heard fifty times on the fifteen minute drive from his house to Abby's place. As sugarcoated and whitewashed as the quote was in order to keep the formidable mass of the American public in control, it did give Gibbs what he needed for his battle plan.

He looked up at the waiting faces.

"What we are going to do- is nothing. This isn't World War III, and this isn't an apocalyptic death for all mankind." He met each of his team member's eyes, refusing to be disturbed by their now bizarre colorings- Abby's smooth caramel brown, Tony's bright copper-gold, Ziva's distant yellowy orange, and Timothy's cold citrine green. "We're going to keep doing our jobs and we're going to keep serving criminals justice. It's what we do." He moved to leave. "You better be at work tomorrow."

In the wake of his finishing words came a tapping knock from the door. A female voice called in. "Abby! Hello?" The team exchanged a look as Gibbs turned to the sound. The Director- that couldn't be good.

Abby moved when the others didn't, lighting over and letting her in. She gave her a quick squeeze of a hug. "Hi, Jenny! Did you get a call from Gibbs?" Abby asked brightly. "Ooh, _love_ the wings. You're like an angel."

Jenny did indeed seem like an angel. Almost impossibly broad wings of utter white were held easily behind her. The only thing that put off the angelic image was a stubby, white-feather tail. Gibbs gave a subtle smirk that obviously meant he was laughing underneath. Jenny knew him well enough to know this. She turned to him with a trademark poison-sweet smile.

"Something funny, Jethro?"

"Oh, no, of course not. This is a very serious matter."

They locked eyes and had a momentary stare-down. Gibbs, despite knowing that he shouldn't challenge a superior, seemed to savor the battle and only when she quirked up an eyebrow bit he look away, smirking.

"Uh, we were just about to go, Director," Timothy said. She turned that dangerous smile to him and he shrank.

"Oh, that's fine. I only need to speak to Jethro, anyway." In other words, _leave_. They listened, but not before Ziva stopped at Jenny, then looked back at Timothy. She was looking at their foreheads.

"Look, it is the same marking." It was true. The little black point on Timothy's forehead matched the one on Jenny's forehead. Gibbs and Tony both turned they're heads, looking at the two markings, while Timothy tried to see up his own face.

"Huh, that's weird." Timothy scrubbed the spot with the side of his hand, but it was a part of his skin and did nothing but redden slightly at the self-inflicted irritation. He looked back to the group, only to find them waiting for him to unblock the doorway. "Oh, sorry guys." The agents filed out, all murmuring goodbyes to Abby.

Ziva and Timothy left together while Tony walked off in the opposite direction towards his car. Abby stood on her tiptoes, looking out the peephole of her door as Gibbs and Jenny talked. Her knack for lip reading allowed her to get bits of the conversation.

"_This is just so bizarre_," Jenny was saying, her stance expressing both stress and annoyance. Gibbs' smile was a bit too playful for the seriousness of the matter to her.

He shrugged, looking nonchalant. "_Hey, you gotta roll with the blows. I think both humanity and NCIS can withstand this… strangeness." _His eyes followed the worried shuffle of her wings. Jenny looked up, and his gaze went to her eyes. They were dark, dark brown, practically black.

Abby grinned mischievously. She could see this getting juicy any minute.

"_We'll have to see in the morning," _Gibbs said quietly, barely moving his lips. Or, "_Wells don't help with warning_," Abby couldn't be sure. Either way, at that moment, Gibbs looked straight at her and said, "_Abby, get outta here_." She gasped and ducked, deciding that he would've been able to do that even without his new doggy senses. Gibbs _was _the master.

The next morning as Timothy entered the NCIS complex, he still walked with a wary lightness, ready to run at the slightest danger. Something bounced off the back of his head and he spun around, crouching, teeth bared. Tony was standing ten feet away, looking deceivingly innocent. Timothy saw the balled up piece of paper on the floor and glared.

"Not funny, Tony." Timothy picked up the paper and tossed it into the garbage. He was surprisingly accurate.

Tony caught up with him on the way to the elevator and grinned. "Whatever, Probie." He slipped in beside him.

The doors were closing when someone yelled, "Hold the elevator! Hey!" Timothy's hand shot out and a sensor made a ding as the doors seemed to bounce away from the human obstruction.

Jimmy Palmer stepped in, flustered as usually, carrying a black briefcase with papers sticking out haphazardly. However, that wasn't what the agents were staring at. It was the black ears protruding from Jimmy's curly hair. The black _rabbit_ ears.

He looked between the two men as the doors closed and his smile faltered. "What?" Tony motioned to the ears, and Jimmy turned as he looked up, revealing a small, fluffy black bobtail. "Oh yeah, it's a little embarrassing, isn't it? You agents are probably lions and bears and I'm a rabbit. The truth is, I didn't even notice them till this morning. When I woke up in the night, I thought my cat was just sleeping beside my face again. Then, when I went to the bathroom in the morning and saw'em in the mirror, you can guess I just was shocked!" The long, black appendages went from high and alert to hanging in self-consciousness, then shot back up. "I think it looks a little unprofessional to leave'em down like that so I keep them up. What do you think?"

The elevator dinged and opened on the agents' floor, and they walked out. Jimmy smiled after them, giving a little wave.

"Of course you wouldn't notice rabbit ears growing out of the sides of your head," Timothy said in disbelief before the doors slide shut. Jimmy's smile disappeared.

"What do you mean, McGee? Hey!" The elevator closed and the oblivious ME was left alone. "I wonder what he meant," he murmured to himself, then looked down his body and around his back. "Oh, my god! I have a tail!"

Back at the bullpen, Timothy was sitting at his desk, watching the news on the big plasma. Tony had indulged in a powdered doughnut and barely paid attention to the professional-looking anchor.

Channel 8 News was playing footage from around the world, from a small African village where a little boy was dashing about with spotted cheetah ears, to a hospital in Alaska where a newborn had been born with what appeared to be tiny bird wings and tail, to a Japanese street where pedestrians walked in mass like nothing had changed- except for the various animal appendages in the sea of humans.

Gibbs walked in with Ducky and the agents stood up for a better look, as if expecting the wings the doctor were sporting to be yellow. They were, however, white-speckled brown and, above his glasses, jutted two bristling feather 'horns' that gave him an intimidating look.

"It is quite beyond me, Jethro," Ducky was saying. "Mother nearly had a fit. I do believe she is, ah, a dog. Corgi, in fact, from the looks of it. What are the odds? Our dear nurse showed up for work, though, which I am ever thankful for. I'm hoping between Abby and I that we can get a bit of our own research done on this phenomenon in the next couple of weeks." The two old friends stopped at the entrance to the cubicle area. Ducky continued. "I'm also a bit peeved that I had to sacrifice one of my favorite coats for these things." He fluttered his wings, which were impossibly broad, indicating to the rough cuts that allowed them to go through said coat, and nodded. "But I must be getting down to autopsy. I do hope Mr. Palmer is doing well."

"All right, Duck, we'll talk later," Gibbs said, mouth twisted in a half-smile, and patted the doctor's shoulder. They separated and Gibbs, as he entered the bullpen, once again become stoic and composed. The agents sat down instantly, like they hadn't been listening to the entire thing.

"What've we-" Gibbs began to say, but was interrupted by an eager Abby, running towards them with unopened evidence bags and a tiny pair of scissors.

"Gibbs, wait, don't start yet!"

He sighed. "Yes, Abs?"

She settled down in front of the team, smiling. "I need samples from all of you." Gibbs perked up. What would Abby be testing for so? Disease? Poisoning? Any perceived threat to his people made Gibbs stand more tensely, which made the other agents more alert.

"For what?"

She rolled her eyes. "I downloaded a couple DNA databases. I'm gonna find out what our animals are!" Of course Abby would be so concerned. They groaned, having worried for nothing.

Timothy stuck up for her since he himself was interested in knowing exactly what he had become. "How long will it take you to get results?"

Abby gave him a appreciative grin. "About a day." Then she said a bit more mysteriously, "Then, all shall be revealed." It was Gibbs' turn to roll his eyes.

"All right, Abs. Get it over with."

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**Yay! Not get reviewing or faving or whatever! I'll post next chap in a couple days ;3**


	5. Nature Crept In and Played with His Mind

**UGH i had to do RIDICULOUS amounts of research for this chapter- i hope it seems realistic! (No intro info this time- word counts high enough already!~) Please read and review- haha, no seriously. Tell me if it's too long of a chap so i can shorten it! Now to get my summer blues ready for a colorguard ;3 (hint: it's navy jargon- they've used it on NCIS before!)**

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_Chapter Five: Nature Crept In and Played with His Mind_

Timothy and Ziva were sitting under the broad windows of the bullpen, morning light slanting across them. Timothy had his heels propped on a chair, and Ziva sat skew to him, her feet up on his extended legs. They barely moved as people maneuvered around them- they were dead asleep, like two cats in the sunroom at noon. Tony sat from afar, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Boss, it's so… perfect." Tony crouched behind his desk. He had a series of balled-up papers on his desk. "They're sitting ducks! How can they just like sleep like that?"

Gibbs didn't bother to look up. "It must be in their blood, Dinozzo. And I wouldn't be so sure about 'sitting ducks.'" Tony sat up and gave him an annoyed look, but reexamined his apparently unsuspecting victims.

"Hey! McGee! Ziva!" the senior agent said. They remained motionless in the pools of warm light. Not even an ear twitch. "See? They're helpless!" He slowly wrapped his hand around the first projectile, pulled his varsity basketball-trained arm back and-

"Don't even think about it, Dinozzo," the two feline-featured agents chorused together. Tony dropped the ball and stared at Gibbs in dumbstruck surprise, who continued to flip through the papers in the file he held- though now he wore an amused half-smile.

Suddenly, both Timothy and Ziva sat straight up, eyes trained on the elevator, which promptly dinged with the arrival of a certain forensics specialist.

"Abby!" Timothy said, voice sharp with pain. "You're doing it again!"

"Oh! Sorry, McGee! Sorry, Ziva!" she replied. The exchange was as quiet as if they were standing side by side. They had no problem hearing each other from across the room.

Abby flitted from the elevator to Ziva's and Timothy's napping place, a movement part bounding skip, part fluttering glide. It wasn't at all graceful, but it had a certain charm to it that matched Abby perfectly. She descended on first Ziva and hugged her, then Timothy.

"Got our, uh, results, there, Abby?" Gibbs asked reluctantly. The whole matter was out of Gibbs' realm of hard evidence and complete truths. Things that were unexplainable and bizarre were not meant to be dealt with unless absolutely necessary, and Abby was doing an awful lot of prying into the act of an incomprehensible greater force.

"Yep!" she chirped. They waited for her to continue. "Well, I'm not gonna do it here- everyone, to the lab!" Abby bounded to the elevator and pressed the down button. No one moved to follow her. "Oh, c'mon guys, it'll be fun. You've got nothing better to do- unless you enjoy boring paperwork." The team exchanged looks. They could use some help procrastination on _that _job. Most of the team got up to follow her- all accept Timothy. They looked back, waiting expectantly.

He looked around, ears twitched back in annoyance, but resigned to his need to know. Curiosity was an infuriating trait he'd already had, but now it was magnified by a couple million. "All right- but I reserve the right to privacy! I'd like the specifics on me to be known by only me."

Abby pointed out, "Well, I already know what you are, McGee."

"You know what I mean, Abby!"

She nodded in concession and ushered them in. "Going down!" The elevator came to jerking stop and opened to Abby's hallway. She strode ahead, unintentionally brushing Timothy across the face with a leathery wing. More than growling in irritation, his eyes dilated and an look between intensity and playfulness went across his face.

Timothy snapped out of it as his coworkers chuckled and moved past him. They thought it was a remnant of his unrequited feelings, and he pretended to be embarrassed. What they didn't see was the fear that had crept up his back and put a cold sweat on his forehead.

That wasn't a playful, amative emotion he'd just felt. Only he knew that for a heartbeat, he had smelled _prey_, and a certain hunger had taken a momentary control over his mind. It had been intoxicating- it had been bloodlust.

"Hey! You getting in here?" Abby waited at the sliding doors for him. Timothy's mouth was too dry from horror to reply and merely nodded as he trotted up to her. The urge was utterly gone, but he was disgusted and terrified that he'd even felt it.

Pulling up a series of images on the big plasma, Abby stood at the desk in the front room while the team hovered by. Whatever fear Timothy still felt, he didn't let his features or stance betray it. He was relaxed as Ziva, which was a good measure since they'd both been asleep in the sun moments ago.

"All right, drum roll please-" She paused for dramatic effect, then proudly exclaimed, "I identified each and _every _one of our animals!"

They looked at each other in silence. "Uh-huh, and?" Gibbs said. She gave him an utterly offended look.

"Gibbs, how can you even say that? This is _not _as easy as it sounds! Most of our DNA technology specializes in humans, and only humans. Did you know that I had to sort through potentially millions upon millions of species? That new species are being discovered every day? I mean, _felis catus _is easy to identify, McGee, but _you_, Tony-" she gave him a scathing look that made him shrink back. "You put up a fight like who knows what! I mean, is that the way to behave when I'm trying to help?"

"Uh, you know I wasn't actually-" Tony attempted, then stopped and turned his head to the side. "Wait, did you say _felis catus_?"

Abby suddenly stopped. "Um, no. No, I didn't." She flashed Timothy an apologetic look.

Timothy forgot about his strange impulse completely. "Oh, no, please tell me it's not-"

"Ha ha, guess I was right about the kitty cat!" Tony crowed, grinning. Then he stopped and looked at Abby. "That is what it is, right? Phys ed. major here, I thought it just sounded like…"

"Yup, it's the domestic cat, otherwise known as the house cat."

"Abby!" Timothy said in horror at her betrayal.

"Well, Tim, he was just gonna go Google it later, I might as well tell him now." Abby returned Timothy's glare, and Timothy looked away in resigned anger.

"He probably didn't even remember it," he grumbled.

Tony clapped him on the back. "Well, I guess we'll never know now, will we?" Timothy just gave him a powerful, annoyed look and he gave a nervous laugh. However, if there was ever a time to feel bloodlust, it was now, and Timothy was immensely relieved that he felt nothing but the normal, human stirrings of frustration- no murder on the tip of his movements and desires.

"Anyway, I guess that's that." Abby clicked on one of the images and it enlarged- a slowly turning spiral of DNA with words and symbols around it that only Abby knew the full meaning of. "Here's the match to McGee's sample- _felis catus_." She selected another and Timothy's panel slid back into it's original place while another, slightly different looking spiral came up. "This here, is Gibbs."

Gibbs stood up a little straighter as he looked at the turning graphic. This was what the unseen forces had given him, and, even though he felt a certain restraint on such strange matters, he suddenly wanted to know. "And?"

"So impatient, Gibbs," Abby said. "You were relatively easy, seeing as you're a favorite in environmental and diversity protection, and in hunting on the icy slopes of Alaska from planes- the gray wolf." The team looked around at each other and gave a small laugh.

"What?" Gibbs said defensively.

Ziva, smiling, explained. "Of course, _you _would be a wolf, Gibbs." He gave her an uncomprehending look and they dropped it, though the air was light with humor.

"And this one," Abby said as she pulled up the fourth panel, "would be Ms. Ziva David. Worshipped, feared, and generally misunderstood from Yukon to the Southern Andes- the mountain lion. Also known as the cougar, the puma, the catamount and the panther. Did you know that it holds the Guinness World Record for species with the most names?"

Ziva smiled coolly, low, thick tail swaying behind her. "It also has one of the most successful attack-kill ratios of any predator in the world. It seems… fitting, yes?" She exchanged a mischievous grin with Abby. _Yes_, the men seemed to agree silently. _Definitely fitting_.

Abby pulled up another spiraling image and beamed at it like hidden treasure recently excavated from previously impossible-to-reach depths. "This, Tony, is yours. I had to search everywhere for this little scrap of data and ended up making a personal call to Italy. A friend of mine has a friend of a friend who works at the Fédération Cynologique Internationale, the World Canine Organization, who then directed me to the databases of the Consiglio Nazionale delle Ricerche."

Brow knitting for a moment, Ziva said, "Isn't that Italian for-"

"The National Research Council, based in Rome. A public organization supporting the aim of scientific and technological research. You are one obscure puppy, Tony. The _canis lupus familiaris_- domestic dog- was easy, but it was also a purebred. It isn't even officially recognized, Tony. The Cane de Mannera, aka Pastore Siciliano." A picture popped up of happy-faced herding dog. Tony smiled in admiration.

"And what a handsome dog it is, right from the heart of Italy. Now that's _class_." Tony gave victorious smirk in Timothy's direction but his expression fell when the fellow agent laughed.

"Of course you're some obscure, annoying sheepdog that no one's ever heard of, Tony. You're a freak!" The team laughed as Tony gave an indignant look.

"Well, you're a kitty cat!" Tony jabbed at Timothy, who immediately glared back.

"And now you're even," Abby declared, rolling on. "Last, but certainly not least, is _moi_. Though not as cool as a vampire bat or a flying fox, I am a loud and proud fruit bat. Specifically the Cave Necter Bat." She pulled up an image of a small, brown bat, beady eyes peering over a yellow fruit twice as big as itself. "Isn't she cute?" Abby cooed. "Oh, and of course, Jenny, Ducky and Jimmy. Can't forget them. Jenny's a _cygnus olor_- mute swan. Beautiful, elegant, and definitely not something you want to tick off. Strong enough to break an arm and take out an eye."

Gibbs gave a barking laugh. "Fitting." Abby smiled, as she rotated to another image.

"Ducky is not a duck," she went on. "He's a great horned owl- quite large and deadly. Another notorious eye-taker-outer bird." Gibbs gave another laugh. "Jimmy is the only herbivore among us- an _oryctolagus cuniculus_- otherwise known as, the domestic rabbit." Abby smiled as she closed the program. "And we all know what rabbits are famous for."

As the team made their way back to the elevator, Timothy trailed behind them and blinked hard. Had the ground just lurched out from under him? It all happened so fast that no one saw his heartbeat of horror. A familiar sensation had crept up his throat and into his mouth- an urge to bite, to seize and tear, to utilize his newly-sharpened teeth. It was a shadow of the original onslaught, but that gave him enough room in his head to be disgusted.

Ziva's breath hitched as a eerie shiver went up her spine. She knew this sensation- her training warning her subconsciously of murderous intent. She turned back long enough to see Timothy gazing at the unaware Abby's back. The look on his face was horror, but his eyes…

His eyes filled the hardened agent with a sickly, incomprehensible terror.

And then the moment passed, and Timothy even smiled as he caught up with Ziva, as though nothing had happened. But he knew something did. And now she did, too.

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**ooh toldja it'd get darker. review and i'll update sooner! this i swear! and the hardest thing for an author to do is chop out pieces of their beloved story inorder to fit a word count. i almost cut out the beginning part with the napping kitties and tony but it was too hard. TT^TT  
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	6. Perhaps a Sense of Normacy

**Haha i'm sick right now and school started. I'm so busy! This chapter starts boring, ends interesting. R&R my dears! sorry for the delay as well. thanks for all the hits, reviews, faves and alerts!  
**

**Summary**: Revolves around a strange disruption in the human race, causing everyone to become part animal. Follows McGee as he and the team attempt to continue their jobs in a strange world- but it seems normal is just something that doesn't work with NCIS, or McGee.

**Rating**: Some cussing and violence later on- I'll give it a T.

**Pairings**: So far, none. But I'll take suggestions for who McGee and the rest of the cast should end up with ;3

Regular text.

"Speaking."

_Thinking_.

(Author's notes within story.)

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_Chapter Six: Perhaps a Sense of Normalcy_

New laws came into being, stating that people were still people. A tenuous peace persisted, against popular belief that it would. For every negative stereotype, there was a positive. People found new connections and new divisions. Associations sprang up like weeds, and hate crimes had a new category to fall under.

Everyone was waiting for the collapse, the apocalypse, the disaster- but it never came. Tragic and horrifying tales emerged from third would countries, but sadly enough, it wasn't all that different from before. Athletes and soldiers became even more powerful, and an undercurrent of environmentalism and compassion among all intensified.

In general, human health, longevity and happiness improved. An infusion of nature was one of the best things that had ever happened to mankind. Instead of destroying the parasites of humanity, many theorized, nature assimilated its sentient life in a way that made it impossible for them to willingly do more harm. Of course, no one could know for sure why exactly everything had happened. Some phenomena of nature can never be fully understood.

The commonality of species was not random and typically coincided with how relatable to humans the species was. One would be hard pressed to find a fish, snake or insect because they were just so different from humans, but it wasn't completely unheard of. It was almost in proportion to the state of the actual species. Meeting an Amur leopard or a kakapo on the street was an unheard of experience, and the efforts to save such recognized endangered species spiked tremendously. The age, ethnicity, and other physical traits had no hand in what species one had. It was both parentage and personality that determined it (except of course, the first generation, where the change had happened after birth.)

Hate crimes were becoming alarmingly prevalent in both military and civilian life. Species pride was to blame. Like any defining characteristic, people tended to group with those similar to themselves and exclude and even persecute those different. In navies across the world, there were seals, seagulls and general marine animals everywhere- so logically an outsider like a cat or a feared predator like a shark would be instinctively disliked.

"What'd you get on our dead ensign, McGee?" Gibbs asked as he strode into the bullpen, a cup of coffee in each hand. He emulated the mood of one of those dogs that should have been left sleeping. Timothy fumbled with the remote and eventually pulled up a series of documents on the plasma, including driver's license, job reports from his boss, and a brief medical notice from less than a week ago.

Timothy exchanged a quick look of fear with Tony, who had also noticed the two cups of coffee. Tony just signaled for him to hurry up and talk. "Um, Ensign Cade was stationed at Norfolk, as a aviation technician in the Third hanger. We talked to his supervisor and some of his coworkers- they said he was a real nice guy, and most people liked him-"

"Most?" Gibbs cut in, as if Timothy was the one responsible for his murder. Timothy gulped and went on.

"Before the change, he was kinda scrawny, but after, he was a mako shark, and these two petty officers-" Timothy pressed the remote and the images revolved to two unsmiling men, both with white and gray wings behind them. "-have been known to cause him problems. PO Allen Russo was transferred to general repair, out of Cade's command, four days ago, and PO Jared Burke requested a transfer to another unit, but was denied. He's been UA since yesterday."

Gibbs' eyebrows rose as his tail thumped slowly in annoyance behind him. "That's certainly a bit suspicious. Who signed off on those?"

Timothy pulled up the two forms, one approved, the other turned down. "Cade."

Nodding, the leader stood back up out of his chair and grabbed his coffee. "McGee, find out where Burke is hiding. Dinozzo, talk to Russo. Ziva, with me."

At that, the team split up into their individual tasks. For the past few weeks, cases like these had grown exponentially more numerous. Most didn't end up as homicide since these crimes were ill-planned or badly executed. The animal senses that now enhanced human senses prevented many assaults from happening in the first place, but every now and then something like finding a dead ensign floating under a pier happened, and Gibbs was obviously getting tired of it.

The UA petty officer seemed to have nothing to do with the case- he had just shirked duties to stay with his girlfriend for the day at her place. When Timothy had gone to the apartment alone and heard a women's distressed voice, he'd burst in and interrupted a very awkward situation. Once the PO and his blatantly drunk girlfriend became decent, Timothy questioned him and it became quite evident that he hadn't the forethought or capability to take on his shark boss. He was short fused, but he was in no shape to take Cade in hand-to-hand combat.

Timothy was leaving as Burke asked, "Hey, you won't tell admin where I was, right?" Timothy just left, pulling out his phone to call Gibbs as he went. However, at the same moment, it rang, displaying his boss's name on the screen.

"McGee," Timothy answered.

"Russo's dead, McGee. The last person he talked to on his cell was Burke, a few hours ago. You find him?"

Timothy's blood ran cold, but not at Gibbs' words. Without replying, he spun around and ducked the knife jabbed at his neck. Timothy dropped the phone and his hands itched to fight. The sounds of their scuffle and the women's screams could be heard distantly on the phone and Gibbs yelled, "McGee? McGee!"

Burke lunged at him and Timothy went with the momentum, seizing his assailant and throwing him against the wall behind them. Slamming against it, Burke bounced back, seemingly unaffected, and shoved the agent to the floor as he had begun to stand from his crouch. The winged man's eyes were cold and calculating- a completely different person from who he had been a few moments ago.

Timothy felt an energy rise in his gut, fiery, raging, and it was what saved him. His kicks landed, his blocks were utterly precise. Timothy grabbed the wrist that held the knife and twisted in one quick motion. Burke's arm made a sickening snap and he dropped the weapon, screaming. Timothy pulled back an arm and punched Burke in the nose, then flipped so that it was he who pinned him and not the other way around. His hungry fingers found the dropped knife and he grabbed it in his hand. He held it high, eyes burning, as Burke cradled his mangled arm.

A shot of horror went through Timothy- an ice cold terror that extinguished his blood lust. What am I doing? he thought and pulled himself off, stumbling back. The brown winged-women swayed in the doorway, blinking in utter disbelief at what she'd just seen. Timothy hoped to himself that she would be too intoxicated for her testimony to count. He picked up the phone in trembling fingers and called Gibbs back.

"Boss," Timothy said, panting, "I've got him. He's in custody."

The reply from other end nearly made his ear bleed. It was an extremely loud, verbally abusive mix of reprimand and ridicule that translated to 'You scared the crap out of me. Don't do it again.' After his rant died down, Timothy explained what happened while rolling Burke over and handcuffing his good arm to the back of his pants since he didn't want to move the injured arm.

"I misjudged him, boss. I turned around and he attacked me. We fought- he's a lot stronger than he looks- but it's okay now. We may need an ambulance, for him." Timothy wanted to clarify that he was okay. "Should I take him to-"

"_NO_, McGee, you're going to stay right there until we get there with the van. Where are you?"

Timothy gave him the address, hung up, then dragged the man back into the apartment and secured his cuffs to a leg of the heavy kitchen table. It was a precautionary measure, since he didn't know what the man was capable of. The fight seemed to have left the petty officer though. His arm was bent at an awkward angle and it seemed to be the only thing on his mind at the moment.

The women insisted that she had to leave, but Timothy told her that she couldn't leave now that she was part of the investigation, and she was too scared of him to challenge him in anyway. Timothy felt a churning of shame and went back to the hallway to get the knife. He picked it up with a paper towel and handled it as the evidence it was, even though his finger prints were now all over it.

As Timothy picked it up, he noticed the blade had very fresh blood on it, but he didn't remember giving or receiving any stabs or slashes. Then he recognized a pain in his forehead and warmth on his face. Blood dripped to the floor in front of him and he touched the wound, face twisting in pain. Burke must've jabbed in and he hadn't noticed. In fact, he now realized that his eye and his side hurt, and memories of the quick fight came back. He'd been too focused on winning it to feel the two punches and the slash during, but as his adrenaline-induced high dropped, it hurt bad.

It took Gibbs less than ten minutes to get back and Timothy had done a poor job of wiping the blood off his face. Head wounds were notorious for bleeding and after awhile, he'd given up on trying to staunch the flow himself. When Gibbs and Ziva showed up, their eyes widened at the disturbing sight.

"It's just a scratch," Timothy said before they could comment. "Burke's in there. He's worse off than me."

"What, is he dead?" Ziva asked. His eye must've started blackening already.

"No, just his arm is broken, I think."

Both Gibbs and Ziva stared at him in silent disbelief. Timothy realized that even if he didn't tell them how the fighting urge had made him lose control, that they'd still have an altered view on him from now on. He said nothing as they went in and saw Burke laying on the floor beside the table, arm hanging awkwardly. He would've looked pitiful if he wasn't so enraged.

"This is police brutality! I've done nothing wrong."

Timothy threw his hands up exasperatedly. "You came at me with a knife!" Ziva crouched beside the man warily, ears twitched back, and looked at the arm, which was grudgingly offered for her examination.

"It is not completely broken," Ziva said eventually, not even touching the injured appendage. "But he will need to go to the hospital soon." She looked up at Timothy. "You must tell how you did this, McGee. I am impressed."

After the evidence was processed, the testimonies collected, and the wounds treated, the agents made their way back to the bullpen, where Tony waited with an indignant expression on his face. He thumped his tail in annoyance as Timothy walked in, bandaged and bruised. Timothy gave an apologetic smile.

"So you take down the bad guy _and _get cool wounds," Tony stated, rather than asked, sullenly. "I don't know what I'm going to around here now that we have McSuper McGee. How did it feel McGee, to finally do something manly?" Tony, of course, said this all jokingly. He _was _a little disappointed that he couldn't apprehend the bad guy in a blaze of glory, but he was proud of Timothy. The younger agent was a field agent after all. He couldn't stay behind a computer for the rest of his life.

Timothy's reaction, however, was not what he had expected. The injured agent stood up suddenly and said, "I don't want to talk about it." The statement was calm, almost normal, but Tony was looking him in the eye as he said it, and he saw those yellow-green eyes burning in anger and confusion so powerful it struck him silent. Timothy walked out as the team stared after him. He didn't care what they thought- he just couldn't stomach what he'd almost done.

"McGee!" Tony called, scrambling out of his chair. "McGee-!!" Gibbs put a hand on Tony's shoulder, halting his pursuit of the other man.

Gibbs had a relaxed air about him, but his expression revealed his worry. "Don't, Tony. I'll talk to him."

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**dear god, the next chapter is READY TO GO. it's so awesome. review! review and i will put it right up!!  
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	7. Mahes and Isis

**DEAR GOD this chapter fought me every step of the way. I was on a bunch of antibiotics and stuff this week so sorry about no updating like i was gonna. Updating MONDAY**** (edit: not sunday, cuz review revenue wasn't as high as predictions put it at ^^')**** night on both stories (i hope!) expecially if this chappie is received well. OK gotta go, thanks for the support, dear readers!!**

**and wait- i'm replying to reviews here:**

**_amdelodder_: well, i'm glad that i've at least entertained you up to the sixth chapter -bows- writing for you guys is the least i can do. no seriously, it is D:**

**_Mwhahahaha18_: It's going to become so much than fighting his dark side, I assure you. It's gonna get downright nasty, especially when part two comes around!**

**_lstladylake_: true, but i can't go back and change it all now D': and i've always just like the way it sounds. timothy, timothy, timothy. and i'll have to mention jethro later. i kinda wanna bring him back into the story a little bit, since he was there in the beginning...**

**_Anonymous_: 70th review! wow thank you! i never thought this story would make it this far *grins***

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Chapter Seven: Mahes, Lord of Massacre, and Isis, Mother of Power_

Jenny rubbed her head between her hands and sighed. What a headache, and still half a pile of forms to look over. Her wings hung limply behind her. Unlike Jethro, she preferred to actually _read _something before she approved or denied it. However, she took one look at the remaining paperwork and decided that she needed to a break.

"Cynthia, I'll be back in fifteen minutes," Jenny said as she swept by. The young woman's deer ears pricked up. She was beginning to worry about the Director, always tired, always distracted. It was understandable to be so sometimes, as a woman of her position in such troubled times would often face great stress, but she'd always handled it so well before.

"Yes, Director Shepherd, is there anything I can-"

"Yes, Cynthia, there is," Jenny cut in. The assistant looked up, expecting some sort of rebuke, but Jenny gave her a calming smile. "Take a break."

Jenny headed for the elevator and went to the highest floor possible then went to the stairwell and up one floor to the roof. Somewhere downstairs, Tim McGee was returning from his successful capture of Burke, visibly wounded and tired. Gibbs had updated her, once the dust had settled, and she trusted him to make sure the agents were taken care of. He was eccentric to say the least, but he knew what he was doing. There was no need to micromanage, even in a situation of injury.

After she climbed the last stair, she pushed the steel door open, and a breeze immediately leapt in to greet her. She smiled and sighed into its airy embrace, tightening her wings to resist unfurling them. The wind seemed to sense her denial and pried even further between each feather and it was like a drug, melting her worries and mind. Jenny strode out to the edge and leaned against the waist-high wall there. For some reason, heights no longer had that hold of fear on her.

The sun was past its zenith but still high. The breeze had calmed but remained persistent, and Jenny slowly let her wings extend. God, what a rush. It was perfect- the open, blue sky, the burning eye of the sun, the cool, playful wind. She let down her last guard and snapped those white limbs out. The air snatched them like sails and she wasn't on the ground anymore.

In any other person, terror would have immediately set in. Humans were earthbound, even the ones blessed with wings. Flight was one of the first things the scientific community investigated and the only thing people had been capable of was a temporary hover. Jenny had been surprised when that was announced publicly, because on her own time, she'd discovered the power to soar.

It was beautiful and free, whenever she let her instincts take over and guide her into the air. Swans were powerful fliers, capable of long distance travel and short jaunts over the surface of their respective lake or pond. Either way, Jenny felt herself slipping, slipping, from the human wants and needs. If only she could lift away and find her home by some secluded lake, far from people and their insignificant lives.

"No!" Jenny looked down and faltered in flight. The roof was some fifty feet below her and dropping. This was one of the worst wanderings yet. It seemed that the pullings became worse and worse every week, this instinctual urge to claim her sky and forget people. No other bird or bat or winged person she knew had described having these blanks of memory, where their animal seemed to be in more control than themselves.

The hardest part was landing. It required her to relinquish just enough control to the swan so she wouldn't break a leg, but not enough for it to seize complete control and go wherever the heck it wanted to- which was not the roof of NCIS HQ. She lighted down, trembling and breathing quickly. It had been so perfect, so tempting, to just go and go and go and be lost forever.

Jenny stayed on the roof for another moment but her time was almost up. Cynthia would be looking for her in a few minutes and it wouldn't be long before there was a silent flurry of searching for the Director. It was like the odds of her getting kidnapped were high or something. Jenny smiled at the challenge of a fight. Something inside her told she would win.

Downstairs somewhere, Timothy took refuge in the men's restroom with silent decisiveness. He stopped and leaned over a sink. It was quiet, clean, deceptively large from the placement of mirrors, and he growled, staring at the false granite counter. Gibbs was steps behind him, he knew, both from physically sensing and from some voiceless intuition.

In his peripheral, he could see himself in the mirror, but he already knew what was there. A lither man, a weary man. A man haunted by coppery blood. He hated looking into mirrors, not because of the snow white ears sprouting so naturally from his brown hair, but because when he saw those brilliant green eyes, he knew that their clarity was a lie. His hands shook. Everyday it seemed to get a little worse, just a little worse. Moments where he was there but also not there. Where a primal kill was more tempting than conscious control.

"McGee."

Timothy gave a tight, humorless smile and looked away from where his leader stood in the doorway. "Go away, Gibbs." Gibbs gave no response to the almost derogatory use of his name but merely moved closer. Timothy's white tail swung low, warning of the tension filling his muscles- the tension of battle.

"McGee, tell me what's going on."

A calm look immediately stole over his face, a practiced lie. "Nothing's going on."

Gibbs became motionless, which was unnatural for any animal and unnerved Timothy. The older agent had a pissed-off look that told Timothy's sensible side that he may have overstepped some boundary.

"Don't lie to me, Tim." It was both angry and gentle- more abnormal behavior. Something in it disturbed Timothy, put him in a place that stirred his thought cycle, the one that spiraled down and down with his almost undeniable instinct. Tim gave a hissing sigh and rubbed the black mark on his forehead.

"I… I was gonna hurt him, boss," Timothy said without looking at him, then stopped. A cold edge entered his voice and he turned to look Gibbs in the eye. "No."

Gibbs held his breath. Such darkness in that look.

"I was gonna kill him."

For a heartbeat, Gibbs was speechless. What was this side of Timothy he was seeing? Insanity? Brutality? He was almost too repulsed to come closer to his pained agent, but Gibbs knew in his gut that Timothy was not a killer. His eyes said cruelty, his stance said fight, but Gibbs _knew_ that he was good at heart. So he went against his rational mind and stepped closer.

Timothy was seized by a violent urge, a voiceless, nameless instinct that cried out against the situation. It was the soul of a wildcat, with its back to a wall and a wolf standing over it. Every fiber in Timothy's body screamed to strike and he was blind with the sudden fury and terror. It took every ounce of willpower to stop from lashing out. He dug his nails into the sink and gave a shuddering breath.

"Tim," Gibbs said, and the younger agent felt a hand on his shoulder, even though his sight was lost to fear. He shook under the touch. "We're gonna help you through this."

Gibbs walked out of the restroom with Timothy in tow, but the younger agent looked more like a lost child or a beaten dog than a killer. Ziva and Tony were not surprisingly just down the hall, trying to look nonchalant, but as the other half of their team approached, they snapped to alertness, worry burning in them at Timothy's broken stance.

"Boss, what's-" Tony tried, but Gibbs interrupted.

"Ziva, stay with McGee up here. Dinozzo, with me."

Tony, though confused, followed after Gibbs to the elevator, glancing back only once to see Timothy falling blindly into step at Ziva's side. He had a haggard look that had developed over the past few weeks. Tony had just thought it was him trimming up from sharper instincts, but now the idea was much darker. What had gotten twisted up in that big ol' McGeek head of his? And if it was happening to Timothy, how many more were affected as well?

Though Ziva's instincts made her move like smoke, with unparalleled grace and ease, she was at a loss as she practically guided her friend to his own desk. He sat down with unconsciously tense delicateness, impressively not making a sound with his movements.

"McGee?" Ziva attempted tentatively. In was not in her repertoire to do much counseling. "Are- are you all right?"

He looked up and his eyes were somehow both brilliant and dead. "Ziva… Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Anything was better than this unnatural, broken silence.

"You're a bit more of a fighter than us," Timothy said evasively, edging around of his own question. "A lot more. Has… Has having this animal in you helped you? With your ability to fight?"

Ziva found the question oddly irrelevant, but she answered anyway. "Yes, it has. I can honestly say I have never felt so powerful."

Timothy looked troubled. "Powerful," he echoed. "Even, out of control?"

"What? No, never. How could a smaller, less advanced part of who I am take control of the rest of me?" Ziva, though she'd imagined the question hypothetical, now began to see the problem. Her eyes widened. "Are you… losing this control?"

His eyes fell darker. "Ziva," Timothy said, jaw set against the urge to lie. "I came very close to killing Burke in cold blood. To killing him just to see him die." His voice shook but he pressed on. "I think I'm losing it. I think I should put myself away, before I hurt someone. Someone I care about." A dark and beautiful person flitted through his mind's eye, and he felt both a powerful urge to protect and a powerful urge to hunt.

Ziva felt small under the weight of this truth he was divulging. She had to force her ears from folding back in apprehension. She extended a careful hand and laid it on his shoulder, but again the contact was unnatural to Timothy's instinct and it seemed to put him more on edge. However, at the same time, he relished the touch. The antisocial animal now residing in his heart had subconsciously been cutting him off from human contact, and the simple gesture of friendship was far more healing than Ziva could imagine.

"Agent McGee."

Both Ziva and Timothy Jumped up. Jenny had seemed to materialize out of thin air, but apparently she'd heard the better part of their conversation. There was something in her expression… Timothy was wary to listen.

"Yes, Director?"

"My office, now." It was a gentle command, but a command nonetheless. It irked Ziva to have her and Timothy's talk interrupted, even though she had no idea of what she was about to say, but she stood up anyway. "Not you, Ziva. Just McGee." Timothy gave Ziva a worried look and slowly stood to follow his boss. "You're not in trouble, Tim."

She'd heard what the young agent had said and had managed to maintain a calm façade, but now they needed to talk. Someone else beside him seemed to know what it was like, to lose control.

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**Oooh, another main character takes prevalence! Tell me what you think guys :3**


	8. The Last Shred of The Twilight

**Well, since school started I haven't really been paying attention to fanfiction, but here's a little holiday gift! I'm a little outta practice as you might can tell from this chapter but I'll attempt to keep y'all currently updated on this story. I have like, five others to take care of too :\ but anyway, thanks for the views, reviews, faves and alerts! and review replies:**

**_Hiyami: _All right, JennyxGibbs is going to happen. I may have already said if i did sorry D: and i'm leading towards the classic AbbyxMcGee but we'll see! **

**_FloatingPizza: _She's a key character in this! And it does feel good to play in other character's heads ;3**

_**Precious Pup:**_** I don't know about time together, but we're about to see Tim and Jen take 'wild' to a T! ****And yup, they do that! Like Ziva and Tim take naps in the sun, they purr- but touch is taboo because of the fights that could break out.**

**_Ashes of Fire: _I think she will help them later, if they get the chance. You'll see. dun dun dun.  
**

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Chapter Eight: The Last Shred of The Twilight_

"Don't let Agent Gibbs in if he comes by," Jenny said to Cynthia before closing her office doors. The young assistant nodded though she seemed uncertain as to whether or not she could enforce that order. Because of that, Jenny locked the doors behind her. Timothy didn't sit but rather stood by the windows, his white fur washed red in the sunset's light. Jenny stood off to his side.

Their energies were different. His was a churning anger, fiery, confused and violent. Hers was a pulling, deep and melancholy. They could sense the opposing natures, the sheer difference between them, but it was also obvious what was in common. They were losing themselves.

Jenny coughed and moved away, gliding across her domain to the table where a few bottles of water sat. She opened one and drained half of it. Timothy had turned to watch her move. His hands itched with that distant urge to hunt, but a housecat would only take on a swan if it wanted to die. They were not natural enemies. Timothy's instincts told him not to fight but also not to hunt, and in this, he could relax.

He sat down skew to her at the table. "What is it, Director?" He felt calm for once- still shaken, but calm.

"I think we're both facing quite the problem, McGee." Jenny set her water down and started pacing again. It wasn't an agitated movement, just a need for movement itself. Timothy watched her slow, sweeping walk and almost believed that such a delicate, pristine figure wasn't a threat. But everything was a threat, his instincts whispered. Especially powerful, winged things. "I think we're both in trouble."

Timothy shifted, his white tail thumping in mild annoyance. Not at her, but at the impossibility of the situation. "I think I can agree with that assessment, ma'am. If you don't mind me asking, but what exactly is that- are you- What happened to you?"

Looking over at him with dark eyes, Jenny stopped. The stillness and silence was punctuated in Timothy's ears and he focused. He could hear the rustle of her clothes and feathers, the moving air of her breath, the quiet thud of her heart. The abilities of his own senses never ceased to amaze him.

"I drift off sometimes. Literally," Jenny added with a wry smile. Timothy just gave her a confused look and she went on. "People can't fly. We learned that early on... But I can." Timothy's eyes widened. "It's wonderful." Her near-black eyes fell darker. "Too wonderful. I'll be on the ground, and then I'll be in the air, far away from it all."

As she spoke, her muscles both tensed and relaxed and her wings rustled, anticipating flight. The sheer muscular power behind those wings scared Timothy and he thought to himself that it would suck to ever have to fight her one-on-one. But then Timothy saw what others would've missed behind that peaceful expression, because he did know what it was like. He stood up suddenly.

"Director Shepherd," he said, low and grounding. Jenny heard it from afar and was surprised. She'd never heard Timothy talk in such a way to anyone, with power and darkness behind the tone. She snapped back to the source of the voice.

Her eyes confirmed his suspicion. She was scared. He could feel it in her tension, see it in her expression. "You're going to be fine. I won't let you lose yourself." His voice shook with intensity, and he seemed to be talking not just to her but to the both of them.

The door handle shook suddenly. "Jenny?" Gibbs called in, realizing at once it was locked. "Jenny, let me in."

Jenny sighed, though Gibbs provided a powerful distraction from her flight longings and that was always a relief. She strode to the doors and opened them slowly.

"Yes, Jethro?"

Timothy hid a smile. How had he not seen this dynamic before? They were flirting all the time. It was so blatant yet unspoken of that he just had to laugh.

Gibbs walked in, looking between his agent and his director. "I was just wondering what was going on." He looked Timothy up and down real quick, but he seemed fine. Then he looked at Jenny, and Timothy knew that Gibbs was worrying that the same that was happening to him was happening to her. "McGee, did you… "

"Yes, she overheard me talking to Ziva." The insatiable pain leapt up in his eyes again, that fear.

Gibbs saw it. "We're going to talk to Abby and figure out what's going on. Someone out there has to have noticed this."

"And everyone'll know I'm losing my mind," Timothy said miserably. Gibbs bristled a little bit.

"We don't have time for you to mope around, McGee," Gibbs growled and for a moment it seemed like nothing had changed, as Timothy stuttered a reply and Gibbs gave him that piercing stare. "You know just as well as I do that you're strong enough to do this." Timothy blinked at the compliment, then slowly moved to leave.

"May I be excused, Director? I'm-I'm going to go speak to Abby about this research."

Jenny nodded and they watched as Timothy walked out. Then it was just her and Gibbs. He turned to the winged woman.

"Were you going to tell me what was going on?" There was a thread of pain in his question, of worry. What Timothy had described of his internal battle was terrible and Jenny was going through it alone? Or worse, sharing with someone else because she didn't trust Gibbs for the same sort of understanding?

But these doubts were fleeting as Jenny took Gibbs' hand in her own. Immediately tension sprang up in the room, Gibbs' ears quivering and pointed forward, all his focus on the person in front of him. Touch was so powerful, especially in this world where it had become almost taboo for fear of animal violence breaking out. It felt good.

"Of course I was. Me and McGee are different, very different. He's fighting this-this hunting instinct, torn between violent and peaceful natures. That's much more dire than what's happening to me." She paused and suddenly realized they were standing very close to each other. Gibbs gave a weird sigh and touched her chin to bring her gaze back up to his. It took Jenny a moment to remember what she was saying. "I just have this longing to leave. To go away by myself, forever. To fly and never look back."

As she talked about it, her powerful white wings drew up, extending slightly. A cold weight of worry settled in Gibbs' gut. He couldn't know how strongly she wanted to run away, and didn't want to believe that her sense of duty to her country, NCIS, and especially her friends was wavering.

So instead he held her close in a hug and she leaned against him. It was so good not to alone anymore, to finally have people who understood and would help. Jenny let her eyes close as she felt the reverberations of Gibbs' voice in his chest.

"It's all right," Gibbs murmured, the words almost meaningless against comforting voice that carried them. That's what really made her feel better.

Then Gibbs stomach growled and the moment was lost. Jenny stepped back, laughing. "Hungry?"

"I may have skipped breakfast," Gibbs said, smiling. "And lunch." And they went out together to get a quick meal.

Meanwhile, Timothy had not gone to Abby's lab. Rather went to his desk and sat down for a bit. Leaning back in his chair, he could have been asleep but everyone in the pen knew better. He was dozing lightly, aware of the immediate vicinity, and ready to act at any moment. Hardly restful, especially with the heavy workload they'd been getting lately. It wasn't a surprise that he was still napping there when Gibbs and Jenny came back with their chinese food.

"McGee," Gibbs called out. Timothy's eyes blinked open but he remained utterly unmoving.

"Yes, boss?"

"Go home. Get some sleep." Gibbs stood in front of Timothy, and the young agent got up and stretched luxuriously. Beneath the formal work clothes, there was definitely a powerful set of muscles. The relaxedness didn't belie the strength there and it was almost unbelievable how his body and mind had changed.

"All right, boss. I'll see you tomorrow then." It wasn't that late in the afternoon but he would be glad to have an evening of rest. Timothy looked around and gathered up his coat and laptop bag. "Director," Timothy said with a respectful nod as he passed her.

That night, Timothy went to bed a few hours before the Director, and many hours before his boss. But he woke up in the dark hours of early morning, and Jenny and Gibbs wouldn't be far behind him.

Timothy was turning in his sleep. His dog, sleeping at the foot of the bed, shivered and sat up. He turned his head and whimpered, but the sound became a growl. Climbing off the bed, lips curling up in a snarl, Jethro's ears flattened back in fear. Timothy turned again, face twisting in pain. A small sound of panic escaped his throat.

It was bright, blindingly so. But it was warm, and safe, and full of love and compassion. He felt like he was staring into the sun, and his eyes were streaming, but he wanted to get closer to the source. It was just a few steps away, and he leaned forward-

But something anchored his feet where they were, and when he tried to reached down and free them, he realized his arms were pinned to thin air. Then he looked and saw the tar- no, the _darkness _wrapping tendrils up his body. Timothy had forgotten how heavy they were, how hot they burned, how strongly they filled him with despair.

He strained against the tar, as it seared his skin and fur. "No!" It slipped up his neck blocked out the light until he was in a world of thick darkness. _I'll just fight it, like before, _he thought. _I'm stronger than it. I've done it before, I'll do it again!_

_No, you won't._

It was a voice so powerful and sure, it stunned his thoughts to silence. And it was then that cold dagger pain dug into his head and chest and he grit his teeth against screaming. And then he was falling, and then he was gone.

Timothy's sleeping form suddenly became still and quiet. Jethro cowered on the floor and barked, loud and long. The figure in the bed sat up silently and grinned at the poor dog. He lighted onto the floor then caught Jethro in mid-leap as the dog attempted to attack him. The man slammed Jethro against the wall. Jethro yelped in pain and hit the ground, staying still and silent on the floor. Timothy smiled, but didn't laugh.

He slipped on his coat and strode out of the apartment without glancing in the mirror. If he had though, he would have seen his snow white ears and tail had turned jet black.

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**Who else here just went ":o oh shi-"? yeah this is gonna be bad XD**


	9. Love Bites and Tranq Dreams

**Whoo! Update! Yeah. Go me. This chapter gets a WARNING for GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. Ooooh oh noes! D: **

**Fullmetal Embers: heehee. that made me giggle.**

**lime juize: Thank you! I hope you like this new section. I feel like my writing's developed since the beginning so it might have a lil different feel now :o**

**demonwings2421: well my readers do a lot of waiting! So sorry, really, but you know that creative urge- all sporadic and whatnot.**

**NCISgirl2: 100th review! Thank you so much! tho slightly intelligible, i still appreciate it ;3**

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Chapter Nine: Love Bites and Tranq Dreams_

"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked as he laid his jacket over the back of his chair. Ziva and Tony, twitching their ears back, exchanged a look.

"I… don't know, boss," Tony said slowly. "Should I call him?" Gibbs just stared, and the senior agent changed his answer. "I mean, I will call him now." He picked up his phone and punched in Timothy's number. It rang until the tinny answering message sounded and Tony shook his head. Gibbs picked his jacket back up and headed for the elevator.

"David, with me."

As Ziva scrambled to get her bag, Tony stood up. "What about me boss?"

"There's a new case on my desk- look over it," Gibbs replied as the doors slid shut.

Tony pursed his lips and sighed. "You really think I can focus on that with _this _going on?"

As Gibbs and Ziva walked through the parking lot, Gibbs pulled out his cell and called Jenny. For several heartbeats it rang and Gibbs jaw clenched. Then-

"Yes, Jethro?"

Gibbs sighed in relief. "Jenny, how're you doing?"

There was a moment of scrutinizing before she answered. "Fine. What's wrong with you?"

"McGee isn't at work, and he isn't answering his phone. Ziva and I are going to his place to see what's going on."

"Call me when you find out."

"Will do." Gibbs hung up and stuck the key in the ignition. Ziva was buckling up in the passenger's seat when he tore out of the lot and onto the road.

Ten minutes later, Gibbs had parked in front of Timothy's apartment complex and was making his way up the stairs. His gut twisted in worry- not the we're-in-danger instinct but more the something-very-bad-has-happened feeling. He picked his way down Timothy's hall and tried the door knob. Both their ears strained forward in the quiet and from somewhere within the apartment came a faint whimper.

They threw the door open with hands on the their guns to find Jethro laying on the floor in the doorway to the bedroom. The German Shepherd remained motionless but attempted to look up at them with dark eyes. He let out another whimper. Gibbs motioned Ziva through one end of the apartment and he moved through the other. Once it was they confirmed it was empty, Ziva kneeled beside the dog and gently touched its side. It yelped as she grazed its ribs.

"Broken," she said grimly and pointed at the blood trail from a spot by the wall to where Jethro lay. "It is coming from his mouth. He needs to go to an animal hospital." She moved to fashion a makeshift stretcher. Gibbs stepped further into the bedroom and noticed it was in mild disarray, expected from a younger bachelor. Nothing seemed too out of place. In fact, there was some money in the open top drawer of his dresser that hadn't been touched. Ziva noticed it as well.

"It seems no one broke in. Nothing is stolen," Ziva looked up and around. "He can fight well- if someone had broken in, he probably could have taken them." She went back to the dog and together, they slid him onto a sheet. It whined then fell silent, save for its shallow breathing. "You do not think… "

Gibbs helped lift the dog and replied, "That McGee did this? I hope not. It's a 24 hour wait before we can file a missing persons report. For now, we can't do anything but wait for him to show up."

They took the injured dog to the nearest veterinary clinic, where they were given a bleak prognosis. Gibbs called Jenny to tell her that they had found nothing substantial.

"Damn. For once, I hope someone's gone after one of my agents. It's better than the alternative."

Gibbs feigned gruff confidence on the other end. "McGee can take care of himself. I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine." _I can't say the same for anyone near him._ "Are we still gonna go to that ridiculous dinner at a time like this?"

"Yes," Jenny said with an exasperated edge. "It's important for the funding we're currently getting. All I need is for us to show up, say some nice words, and then it's done. I would appreciate it if you would do this for me." Her tone had softened at the end, and Gibbs gave a little half smile. "And for all we know, McGee's just taking a personal day." She mustered up enough confidence in her words that Gibbs almost hoped to believe it.

"All right," he said grudgingly and, after a few more pleasantries, hung up. He had to go break it to Abby.

She was at her computer, tapping away at her keyboard, music blaring. It looked like some tedious task of entering data, but she went about it in her energetic way, nodding to the beat. Spinning in her chair, she gathered up a few more papers and set them before her, looking between them and the screen.

"Abby," Gibbs called from the doorway. "Abby!"

"Gibbs!" Abby smiled and jumped up to turn off the music. "What's up? Got some juicy evidence for me to dismantle?" Then she saw the unsmiling look on his face and became still as her grin fell. "What's wrong?"

"McGee is missing," Gibbs said. After hearing secondhand from Gibbs what was happening to Timothy, Abby had been worried out of her mind. Now once again that look of anxiety took over her eyes. "He never showed up for work, and when we checked out his place, the door was unlocked and Jethro was beaten. He's at the animal hospital right now."

At that, horror replaced anxiety and she exclaimed, "What?! Who would do that to a poor, innocent, little-" Then she stopped in her tracks, as if remembering the first time she'd met the dog, and that the words she was saying now were almost identical to then. The dog had worked for a narcotics unit and attacked Timothy when NCIS went in to search his owner's home. Timothy had shot the dog in an effort to defend himself, and Abby had demanded to know who could hurt an 'innocent' dog.

"No. Tim wouldn't- Did he-?" Abby asked, voice trembling.

"We don't know anything yet, Abby. Let's not jump to conclusions." Gibbs insisted. Abby put her hand over her mouth and wrapped her other arm around her middle, and Gibbs pulled her into a hug. "It's all right, Abby. Tim's fine, and Jethro's gonna be fine, too."

"Then where is he, Gibbs?" she asked. "How do we know he's not out there- hurting someone?"

Gibbs repressed a frown and just said, "Because- because it's McGee. He'll make it through. He's strong enough." Abby eventually nodded and let him go. "All right, I gotta go back up there." She sniffed and nodded again. Tim would be fine. She just had to believe it.

Later that night, Jenny gazed into her tall mirror, fixed a delicate necklace around her throat, and adjusted her dress. Her ivory white wings rested against her back, contrasting against her black gown. She picked up a small purse and moved to leave the room, then hesitated.

Without warning her mind deviated from the task at hand and phantom sensations of air buoying up beneath her wings made her tense up. What was she doing? Her hands found her bottom dresser drawer and she took a knife in a sheath and strap out. She fastened it around her upper thigh, hidden beneath her dress. A small handgun, light and highly reliable, slipped into her purse.

And just like that, she came back. She groaned and rubbed her forehead. "What was I- oh, yes." She picked up her purse and hustled out the door, no notice of the new weight in her bag or the fabric against her leg.

There was a dinner to attend.

Timothy was cruising down the dark road, foot slowly squeezing the gas closer to the floor. He could feel the buildings flying passed and the thrum of his car working. Far ahead, two figures were crossing the street and his body itched put the pedal all the way down. _No, _his thoughts whispered. _Not yet, not these two insignificant people. _He slowed down and just barely whizzed around them- and grinned at the glimpse he got of their terrified faces. He was going to work.

The parking lot outside NCIS was still dotted with the cars of employees working late. Timothy pulled smoothly into a visitor's space and got out. A cool night breeze stroked his face and ears and he smiled against it. _Where to first, where to first_… he wondered. He strode into a side entrance without hesitation, jet black tail whipping in before it got clipped by the door.

"Hey, McGee?"

Timothy whirled to face Jimmy stepping from a back room and a disgusted anger churned in the agent's gut. _This spineless rabbit will ruin my element of surprise, _he thought with an inward sneer. He gave the young ME a bright smile.

Jimmy smiled back but it faltered. He stepped closer to the agent and a ripple of tension went over Timothy. "Aren't you- missing? And you look different. Your ears are… and your teeth look-"

Before Jimmy could react, Timothy whipped out a hand and punched him at the bridge of his nose. The glasses shattered and his eyes rolled back but Timothy grabbed his limp body before he hit the ground and dragged him back into the room from whence he came. He tossed the bits of debris from the glasses through the door and shut it tight.

He stood up straight and gave a hiss of satisfaction. That felt good, and it was decided. There was a certain lab to visit.

Abby suddenly looked up and twitched her bat ears around. She'd caught what seemed like a sound, but the distinct silence now was even more disturbing. She hummed in those pitches she heard so well and received the reflected waves. Nothing was out of place in any corner of her dimmed lair of a lab. Then what was this feeling of wrongness?

"Hello, Abby."

Abby tried to scream the fear that struck her to the core, but a quick, precise strike sent her sprawling to the floor.

In the dinner hall of an extravagant hotel, Jenny sat quietly next to a certain lead agent, who quietly sighed. She looked at him in annoyance and he returned the look with all seriousness.

"I don't think I can take much more of this, Jenny," Gibbs said, the humor deep in his tone. "Just them going on and on- 'My company this, my company that.' When may I leave?"

Jenny replied in a much lower, more threatening tone, glaring. "Just after I-"

"And now a word from the Director of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, Jenny Shepard!" There was a lively spattering of applause as Jenny immediately stood up, smiling, and stepped with smooth grace towards the podium.

However, halfway between her table and the stage, she stopped. A dizzying pressure was building behind her eyes, in her very head. The glass ceiling far, far overhead showed a black-purpled sky with the occasion speck of white stars and her inner eye fixated on it. Her primaries trembled, an itching slipping up the very barbs of each feather, through the vein and hollow base into the delicate skin beneath. From the hollow wing bone to her nimble spine and long limbs, it was a tingling that blinded and distracted. Somewhere, far away, a familiar voice cried out, "Jenny!" as people screamed and glass broke.

A bang ripped through the huge room.

Gibbs stumbled back into a table, arm hanging limp. He stared up in disbelief, in pain. "Jenny," he whispered as she soared up. Her wings stood a deepest black against the violet-hued night and she spiraled up. Her mouth was twisted in a grin, but there was no laugh. Just silent, bloody victory. "Jenny… " Gibbs slipped to the floor as people cried out and blood poured from the hole in his arm, eyes closing. His body felt cold in the shock and sudden blood loss. Sirens would soon sound, but when the EMS eventually arrived and began to move Gibbs, he would resist and mumble, "Get Jenny, help her… help her…"

At that same time, Abby was backpedaling towards a corner in her lab. Her face, tear-stained and bruised, showed an expression of despair. The physical pain of her wounds and the broken wing trailing behind her was nothing beside the utter hopelessness and fear she felt for one of her closest friends.

"Tim," Abby said, wiping her cheek. "Tim, don't you remember me?"

Timothy stood not ten feet away and something- something faltered. The steel glint in his eye, the deranged toothy smile- there was a twitch in the terrible mask. He stalked closer, and the only sound was Abby's gasping breath and the hum of the few remaining undamaged electronics. With a face slowly melting into blank shock, he laid his hands on her arms and pulled her slowly to her feet. She trembled in fear, but she could feel it- every muscle in his body shaking hard, so hard. Every bit of him straining forward to destroy, but every bit of him resisting. The ache for destruction was powerful but there was a love, a deep love, somewhere between friendship and unrequitement.

He bit her throat, a bite that strained in his jaw to not be one that killed. His mind whirled. _Do it! _Some rage-fueled bit of his heart snarled. _Make her feel what you've always felt since then._

There was the click of handgun. "McGee, put your hands up and take three steps back."

Timothy froze. Abby dared to whimper, "Tony."

"McGee, you have five seconds." One could not detect it if they didn't know Tony, but Abby heard it- the barest tremor in his voice. The tremor of conflicting emotions. A SWAT team member padded forward into the room with a long gun held up in his hands, trained on Timothy. As his long, spotted tail swayed slowly back and forth behind him, a voice murmured from behind the helmet, "On your cue, Agent Dinozzo."

Despite it all, Abby saw the weapon and whispered, "No."

Timothy still didn't move.

"McGee," Tony growled, but a whine almost pealed behind it. _Please just surrender, Tim, _ Tony silently pleaded. _Please, please._

A heartbeat passed, and Timothy suddenly turned away and stepped towards his captors.

Tony's defense mechanisms and police training immediately kicked in and he barked, "Now!"

The SWAT leopard fired and a tranquilizer thudded into Timothy's neck. Timothy went to his knees, snarling in fury, but quickly keeled over into a deathly still, sedated sleep.

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**I know, slightly abrupt, but word count was creepin up on me again. Hey, I did let myself right everything I meant to :3**


	10. Black Ice

**I shouldn't expect to be thanked for updating. Like paying your taxes, I should just update like a good, little writer. To anyone who stills cares, I still love this story, and the other ones I have published here. Thanks for the support! Please tell me what you think, honestly, because I really, really would like some **

**Hiyami: I plan on explaining their condition throughout the story, so it will all be clear... eventually. Also, since you find out now, yes, she did aim.**

**Gunner's Dream: Yes, just a kitty, but the darkness and his own intelligence makes him straight up dangerous! Indeed, no one's perfect, and I hope my writing highlights that and shows that it is what makes humans special!**

**Ichi-chan1:**** Thank you for believing in me! Indeed, you are the spur that incited me to write this chapter :3**

BTW, it's taken two years and a day for me to post ten chapters of this story. Neato.

Also, another side note: REVIEW. IT MAKES ME UPDATE FASTER. MORE REVIEWS = HIGHER HIT COUNT = ME CARING MORE ABOUT THIS STORY = ME UPDATING. Win-win, see? I'm not grubbing for reviews for the sake of 'oh, look at me, I have reviews for my mediocre story on a fanfiction website.' No, reviews get more people interested in a story, which I can see via stats on my homepage through hits, which both guilts and excites me into writing more. I'll probably get flak for this message, but what do I have to lose? Well, besides people's respect, but pssh, who needs that.

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_Chapter Ten: Black Ice_

All was deadly silent, then Abby fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. Tony skidded forward, practically jumping over Timothy's body. He gingerly wrapped his arms around her, afraid of grazing a wound, but she huddled up against him.

"Your wing," Tony said, his hand over it but careful not to touch the limp appendage.

"He broke it," she whispered. Her skin was cold to the touch, and a bluish tinge had crept up on her lips under the messed coat of black color.

"You need to get to the hospital." Just as the words left his lips, his phone began to ring. Tony considered ignoring it, given the gravity of the situation he was already in, but his gut ordered him to answer. "Dinozzo."

"Anthony Dinozzo, senior agent at NCIS?" an unfamiliar voice asked from the other end.

Tony twitched at the phrase. He ached to be on his way to taking his dear friend to the hospital. He growled, "No, you're looking for my boss, Gibbs. He's at the annual dinner for-"

"This is concerning him, sir. He's been shot and is in critical condition at Bethesda Hospital. He was conscious long enough to insist we call you."

A thin cry came from Abby, her incredible ears capturing everything that was said. Tony was filled at once by an overwhelming panic, his heart caught in the pressure of the moment. His boss and two of his teammates were down, and everyone was looking to him to step up, to save their world.

"I-I'll be there right away!" Tony managed to say and hung up. Despite his usual composure, he could only grit his teeth and try to make his hands stop shaking.

"Your heart," Abby whispered, scared and fading, "is beating so fast."

Alarm shot through Tony once more. "Stay with me, Abs. All of you will be fine." He shot a desperate look to Ziva, who looked just as lost. He was reassuring himself as well as them. "All of you, I swear."

An ambulance whisked the team away to the hospital, Ziva and Tony with Abby, and an armored vehicle took Timothy there as well, as he was already twitching fitfully under the abating sedative. Emergency specialists peeled Abby from her friends' worried hands. With Timothy locked in some safe room in the psychology wing, Ziva and Tony had nothing to do but wait for their teammates to wake up.

Ziva was sitting beside Gibbs' bed, calmly waiting in a half-resting stasis, tired but on edge. Sleep would neither come nor go. As Tony waited outside the OR, pacing by the waiting room chairs, Ziva was watching over her boss. His arm had been broken, the shock of the wound sending him into a deep sleep for hours. Dawn was close when movement from the bed rousted Ziva from her light sleep.

Gibbs shifted just barely from his bed, and his eyes blinked open. He stared blankly ahead at the ceiling. A tad anxious at this unresponsive awakening, Ziva leaned forward and said, gentle and unintruding, "Gibbs? Do you know what has happened?"

"I was… at the dinner… But Jenny-" Gibbs' eyes snapped to alertness. "Jenny!"

Ziva twitched at that, her tail slowly bristling. Jenny had been at the dinner. "Yes, what about her, Gibbs?"

"She did this. She shot me," Gibbs said weakly, then swallowed and forged on. "We need to find her. Something's wrong with her. She became… deranged." Ziva's blood ran cold.

"The same thing happened to McGee. He came to NCIS a few hours ago and attacked Abby," Ziva told him. His eyes lit with alarm.

"Is she-?" he rasped.

"She is here, having emergency surgery. Tony is waiting for her outside the OR. McGee was captured and is in a cell here in the psych ward." Ziva shifted in her seat. "Did you notice anything strange about Director Sheppard's appearance? Perhaps her animal markings?"

Gibbs gave a slow nod. "The feathers turned black. All at once."

"Indeed, McGee's fur has turned completely black, as well."

His eyes narrowed at that. "There's a connection. Something… is hurting my people." Conviction steeled his eyes. "I will stop it."

"Yes, but for now you, and Abby, will rest. Perhaps we may question McGee tomorrow."

The sound of approaching footsteps made both Gibbs' and Ziva's ears cock to the side. Tony was hurrying over, a grin wreathing his tired face as he said, "Abs, she's fine. They set her wing, but the injuries were superficial. She's going to fine, walking, by tomorrow." Tony blinked at Gibbs, as if just realizing he was laying in a hospital bed, as if just realizing he could be injured. "Boss."

"Get that look off your face, Tony," Gibbs said, the slow confidence of his voice soothing his team's nerves like a break in the clouds during a thunderstorm. "This is hardly a wound that'll keep me in bed for more than a day."

Bouncing from lost child to matronly guardian, Tony warned, "Now boss, you're not exactly the youngest man anymore. It'll probably take a little longer for you to rest up completely." Gibbs stared silently at the comment with a raised eyebrow, and Tony paled a bit. "Not that you aren't, ya know, energetic in your age, and, ah, this, um, sentence is over now."

Ziva laughed at his feeble stop, and Tony growled. For a moment, the mood was light for what seemed like the first time in an eternity. Then Gibbs cleared his throat and lowered his tone.

"All right, team. Go home, get sleep. None of us will be able to face this thing head on without some rest, which includes you two," he said as they began to protest. Then he stared at them hard. "But most importantly, watch your backs."

They nodded at the solemn order.

"Gibbs!"

The team turned to see Ducky leading a bandaged, glasses-less Palmer into the room.

"Palmer?" Gibbs rasped. "What happened?"

Jimmy gave the slightest tremble as he was startled from his reverie. "W-what? Oh, McGee, he… attacked me. Before he got Abby." His nose was broken, darkening both of his eyes with black and purple bruising. Bowing his head to hide his face, Jimmy let his black ears hang limp. "He knocked me unconscious and threw me in a supply closet. If only I'd been able to stop him, to see the signs that he was acting strange, maybe Abby- maybe I-"

Ducky squeezed his shoulder. "There is no way that you could have known, my boy. The important thing is that you go home and sleep." Jimmy looked up suddenly at that.

"Alone?" he said almost too quietly for them to hear as he chanced a look at the faces staring back at him.

"We can always assign you a detail, Jimmy," Gibbs said. He understood the trauma Jimmy was reeling from, being brutally attacked by someone he trusted.

But Jimmy swelled up and held himself taller. "No, no, I'm fine! I just need some glasses before I try to drive or anything like that," he added with a weak chuckle.

"I will drive you to your house, Jimmy, assuming everything here is taken care of?" Ducky questioned, looking around. "Well, then, we will be off. Give Abby my regards?"

With that, Ducky and Palmer left, and Ziva and Tony soon after. Gibbs was exhausted and ready to sleep, but his mind was spinning with worrisome thoughts. Would McGee come back to himself? When would Jenny return? Where was she now? He fell slowly to sleep on that idea, unable to stop himself from fixating on it.

Jenny was not far, however.

She was in the brightly lit room of what looked like the classy office of a major CEO. "Well done, Jennifer," a low voice said from behind a desk. "But you missed."

"You don't need to tell me that." Jenny turned away and looked at nothing, her near-black eyes glittering coldly. Her face twitched as the images replayed. The ground falling away so gloriously, but one movement, one shifting figure making it all worth nothing. Jethro falling to the ground, blood seeping from his arm. It was the only thing that jarred her darkened haze.

It was this darkness that wrapped warm, comforting tendrils around her mind, that steeped her feathers in black. She could not resist its intoxicating embrace, the freedom it whispered in her ear of placid lakes, far away just for her, if she could just wait a little longer, just do a few more things for it.

"Jennifer," the voice said, both out loud and in her head. "What are you thinking about? Him?"

"No!" she snapped. All her fine posturing and subtle ways withered away in this person's presence. It was in her head and knew her tricks. "Of course not. Now what else do you want?" Her eyes roamed, and her skin itched with containment. "I don't think I can stay much longer." Her mind was slowly slipping from any grasp of reality.

"Just a little longer, Jennifer. Just a few more things," the voice said. "Why don't you go fly? Take a little break."

Jenny's straining loyalty snapped back into place. "Really?"

"Yes, Jennifer. Go. Be back before dawn."

Her silky black dress waving as she strode away, the person behind the desk sent his thoughts out to locate his other target. This new investment had seized their newly found power while escaping his influence at the same time. He had run off and enacted an unordered strike, then gotten captured. The person found his target in a cell at Bethesda Hospital.

_Timothy_, the voice said with gentle reprimand into his target's head. _Timothy, you did a bad thing._

Sitting on the floor next to a steel, fixed bed, Timothy's head shot up. He whispered to the air with an expression between fear and rage, "No."

_Yes, Timothy. You slipped away from me when I gave you all that power._

"I- I don't- want it," Timothy hissed, just barely able to get the thought through. He was wading through neck-deep darkness, the darkness that told him that he really, really did want power. What strain of sanity he had was drowning in it.

_This is what I get for giving you a gift? _The voice sent a lance of pain through Timothy's nerves, and Timothy grit his teeth at it but refused to make a sound. It incited his rage and made him slip into the darkness completely, but it was rebellious.

Timothy gave a dark, dark smile and growled back inside his head. "You can zap me all you like, but I am my own person. You can't make me bend for you."

_And that is why I value you, Timothy. Why I gave you this power. Why you should be in charge. _Timothy's ears perked at that.

"Really? You… think I should be in charge?"

_Indeed, Timothy. And you will have that position, that rise, that _power_… just as soon as you do a few more things for me._

That toothy smile broadened. "Keep talking."

* * *

**Looking for more McGee-centric abuse fics? Check out my other story, _Secrets, Lies, Daggers and Revenge_ at:**

******fanfiction. SPACE net/s/5237165/1/Secrets_Lies_Daggers_and_Reveng**

**Just copy and paste the above URL and get rid of the ' SPACE ' in it (FF doesn't let you post addresses.) It's like this but darker and not so fantasy.**

AN: This is about me, not my story, so stop reading if you don't care. I'm going through some difficult times, and fanfiction- and fiction-writing is therapeutic for me. When you guys read, it makes me write, which in turn makes me feel better about life in general. So, here I genuinely say, thank you.


	11. Stasis, Equal Opposing Forces

**I'd like to give a shout-out to everyone who's favorite'd or alert'ed this story. These dedicated reader-writers actively support other people's stories by doing this! Thanks for the support. Please review!**

_**diana teo, musicgurl21284, HalfwayThereNow, kira66, SetsuUzumaki, Mwhahahaha18, Carolina85, alicat2464, amdelodder, AmyLovesABowTie, Cursed Flame, Ashes of Fire, frozenscythe, Vampire's Phoenix, fritzc77, Brooklyn Maxwell, WinchesterGrl09, .under, Victoria Ackles, animelord91, inuhime91, tatertotts, Kokoleka, sasori'sloverandwife, SnowCatPV, zabani-chan, eoforever and ever, Ichi-chan1, Luna Dare, Heero Yuy009, CaelumFelis, jay86, Liger48, writergirl123456789, I-JUST-LOST-THE-GAME, FloatingPizza, demonwings2421, Lesalanna, lime juize, sakuravision, Hiyami, prettybirdy979, haakonsson, Maybe-I-Should-Write-Something, Rokuko Kaminari Blaze, imajackal, xkohleyesx, EasyButton, Moonstruck Chocolat, Fullmetal Embers, CSIvHP11, GinnyMastrani, yellow blaze, FairELF, Coles Guardian, smilingT12, Stormraven, Seadrance, CorosiveVile, WolfbainKohaku, spnMom, siltrana, Momma Hexie, NUMB3RS-freakyfreak, Gunner'sDream, CrazyatAlltime, Rosebud in Amber, ralfs, ASP AUS, Daken, apbarium **_**(Let me know if I missed you or if you want your name removed!)**

* * *

_Chapter Eleven: Stasis, Equal Opposing Forces_

"McGee?" Tony called through the door. No response. "McGee, we've set up an interview room. We're coming in to take you to it. All right?" Again, no response. He looked over his shoulder to the two guards and nodded them in. Through the window, they could see Timothy sitting on the floor beside the bed that had not been touched.

The capuchin guard had his rifle trained on Timothy at a distance while the Labrador guard stood more closely, unarmed lest the prisoner attack and snatch it from him.

"On your feet," the guard said.

Timothy stood without looking at either of them but instead fixed his gaze with Tony's.

"Hello, Anthony." There was no smile, only cold, calculating eyes.

Tony repressed a shudder. Dangerous was the vibe that Timothy was screaming. The line of Tony's lips tightened as he wondered where Timothy was inside that fearful persona. Leading them to the impromptu interrogation room, Tony held the door open. Ziva was already in there, standing beside the table in the middle of the room.

The guards handcuffed Timothy's hands behind his back, then to the chair on the far side of the room, forcing him to sit still. Timothy's long, black tail twitched at that, skin crawling at the idea of containment. Once that was done, Tony dismissed the guards. This would be within the team.

"McGee," Tony said, standing by the locked door and facing away. Where to start? Tony always walked into a questioning with a game plan, using his classic method of lulling them into a lack of security then going in for the kill with evidence or knowledge that was unbeknownst to the one being questioned. But here was McGee, changed and darkened. What questions would he even understand?

Suddenly, McGee whispered out loud, with begrudging resignation, "I don't particularly want to kill him, though."

Tony and Ziva started at that.

"Oh, McGee." Ziva's expression was twisted with pitying despair. She recognized those signs of insanity and could only believe that her friend was all but lost.

However, Tony narrowed his eyes and leaned in on the table with his hands to look Timothy in the eye. "Who are you talking to, McGee?"

Timothy rolled his eyes. "Like I would know his name. Do dealers exchange personal information with addicts?"

"What did he give you?" Tony pressed. Ziva observed from a step back. Tony was chasing something, digging it out. Hope flared in her for a moment. Perhaps something was not what it seemed, that maybe Timothy was not completely lost.

Timothy's eyes lit up like fire, and he showed his teeth in a smile. "Power."

"Power?" Tony snarled, smacking the table top with his hand. Genuine anger pulled Tony's face into a mask of fury. "You, McGee, crumbling to power, just so you could kill Abby?" Ziva did not react to that calculated lie.

There was a instant crack in Timothy's arrogant armor, or perhaps cage. His eyes widened, his black ears folding back. "No," he gasped. He hunched over himself, unable to breath. "No, I couldn't- not Abby, she couldn't have-"

"But you did," Tony pressed viciously. "Why, McGee?" Timothy stared silently ahead, and Tony smacked the table again to puntuate his question. "Why?"

"Because!" Timothy finally said. The voice was loud in his head, ordering him to stop, ensuring him it was a lie, but Timothy bowed his head against tears. He could barely manage to whisper, "She hurt me." Tony and Ziva blinked at that. "But I loved her. I never wanted to hurt her."

Tony wavered. This was not the deranged McGee that busted down Abby's door. This was a new Tim, a tortured, scared man. Something was not adding up.

But Timothy plowed on, looking up desperately into Tony's eyes, somehow knowing that he only had moments to give them a lead, any lead. "Tony. Tony, I never wanted this power. It was forced on me, he's using me, I can't stop it, the darkness inside my head, please, _please_, help-"

Suddenly Timothy went rigid in the chair and threw his head back, grinding his teeth against a scream. Tony and Ziva leapt forward, recognizing that he was in terrible pain and desperate to aid him but not knowing how. His entire body shook, muscles spasming, and he could not contain the cry any longer.

"Stop! Stop, I'll do what you want," Timothy gasped, tears streaming. He hung limp from the chair and the binds, head bowed. "I'll do what you want."

"No, Tim, it's not too late!" Tony pleaded, gripping his arm for emphasis, but it was too late.

Timothy had all at once relaxed, the pained lines smoothing from his facial features. That icy smile once more twisted his lips.

"Oh, Anthony." Those bright green eyes bore into Tony's. "You nearly took me from my new boss with that little lie about Abigail. But now I know better." Timothy leaned in closer to Tony, all the hatred in the world in his voice as he grinned furiously. "Like I could have _ever _trusted an idiotic, egotistical bastard like you."

The cold delivery of that statement made Tony flinch back for just a moment. It was so unwavering, so pure of voice, that Tony did not know what to believe. He had always poked fun at little, ol' Timmy, but surely a venom to that degree was not warranted. But Tony just looked at that cold hate on Timothy's face and found himself fostering just a sliver of doubt for the unity of his team.

"Tony," Ziva said warningly, seeing the shadows pass over Tony's unshakable confidence.

"No, Ziva, I know," Tony cut in.

Timothy just smiled and shook his head. "Yes, Anthony, you always just know, don't you? When Jennifer comes back, you'll know what to do, right? When I get back out, you'll know what to do then, too, of course. I sincerely wish you luck, Anthony, but there is really nothing you can do," Timothy taunted, then added with ominously sparse detail, "Oh, and I think Jethro will be needing that luck, too."

"We are done here," Ziva said, physically putting herself between Tony and Timothy, moving the senior agent towards the door. "He is merely trying to unsettle you."

The two agents left the room while the guards led Timothy away. The captive Timothy did not struggle or react to his treatment but merely continued to walk with his head and tail high. Nothing perturbed him in anyway. In fact, he was still smiling and making conversation with the voice only he could hear.

"Of course I won't let them… Oh, not long at all. I can't wait for that… It will be mine. Yes, mine." He smiled ever more deeply, darkly, but did not laugh. No, he did not laugh.

As he disappeared down the halls, Tony sighed and looked down. "It kills me, Ziva. It really kills me."

"I know, Tony," she reassured him. "But he is still in there, and we will save him."

Fervor hardened Tony's expression. "He _is _in there. He looked me in the eye and begged for help." Tony bared his teeth as the fur of his tail bristled. "And I have no idea how to help him. Who this person is that took McGee and the Director, I don't know how they did it. But I'm an investigator. I'm going to figure this out."

After the interrogation, Tony had to go back to the shambles that was NCIS. Bereft of director, lead agent, and two specialists, Tony had to step in momentarily as head of affairs and try to do damage control. Ziva would have to return soon as well, but first she was to drop Abby off at her apartment for a few days' rest.

Abby was sitting on the edge of her bed when Ziva knocked on the open door, and she could not repress of a flicker of shock at the lab specialist's appearance. Eye blackened, arms scraped, wing pinned against her back in a delicate brace for a delicate appendage, Abby was a mess. Without makeup and, more importantly, without her trademark smile, Ziva felt as if she were looking a shell of the person she knew.

"Abby? May I come in?" Ziva asked. Abby looked up suddenly at the voice.

"Of course," Abby said blankly, going back to staring ahead.

Ziva's heart twisted for the shaken woman, and she sat down next to her gingerly. "Abby, do you need anything? We are here for you. Also, Gibbs is awake, and he will be cleared to leave tonight. Do you want to visit him on the way out, perhaps?"

At this, Abby's black ears perked up. Ziva could not help but notice that one of them was nicked badly, leaving it ragged-looking on the edge. "Oh, yes. Yes, we should do that. But also... "

"Yes, Abby?"

"Is Tim here?"

Ziva did not want to answer. The last thing Abby needed was to see her attacker again or how her once close friend had fallen. "Yes," Ziva said slowly. "But he is being kept in solitary confinement."

"Oh, I just wanted to know where he was," Abby said matter-of-factly.

Not sure what Abby was getting at, Ziva said, "He will not be getting out while he is like this, Abby. He will not be able to hurt you."

Abby gave her a look that was too tired to be angry. "I'm not really worried about that, Ziva. I just want Tim to be himself again."

Hoping to give her some glimmer of hope, Ziva told her how the interrogation had gone. "He came back to himself completely when he thought you had died. In a way, you are helping him be himself. We got several clues as to what is happening to him after that. We think someone is controlling him, drugging him with power and keeping him under their grip."

The news seemed to not have an effect for a moment, then Abby's brow furrowed.

"He… McGee _was _going to kill me," Abby said thoughtfully. "But he stopped. He looked at my eyes and just stopped. Like he wanted to, and yet, he didn't want to at all. He was stuck there when Tony came in. This might sound crazy, but I think I shouldn't have fought back."

"What do you mean?" Ziva asked, perplexed. Surely if she had not fought back or tried to escape, she would have died long before the team had gotten there.

"I mean that when I stopped fighting back, when I tried to appeal to the Tim that was in there… I think it worked."

* * *

**Yeah, I will update my other story now. I assume if you're here, you've read the other since it's twice as popular. Sadly, I enjoy this one more, but at least the other is still fun. I finally figured out where to take it!**


	12. Breaking Free, Breaking Down

**So, it's been a little bit of time since I've updated this puppy. Well, enjoy this, the longest chapter so far. Every character gets a little bit of love I think, and by love, I of course mean terrible emotional and physical pain. **

**Here's my shout-out, y'all are real troopers for sticking through this ungodly-scantily-updated story: **_**diana teo, musicgurl21284, HalfwayThereNow, kira66, SetsuUzumaki, Mwhahahaha18, Carolina85, alicat2464, amdelodder, AmyLovesABowTie, Cursed Flame, Ashes of Fire, frozenscythe, Vampire's Phoenix, fritzc77, Brooklyn Maxwell, WinchesterGrl09, .under, Victoria Ackles, animelord91, inuhime91, tatertotts, Kokoleka, sasori'sloverandwife, SnowCatPV, zabani-chan, eoforever and ever, Ichi-chan1, Luna Dare, Heero Yuy009, CaelumFelis, jay86, Liger48, writergirl123456789, I-JUST-LOST-THE-GAME, FloatingPizza, demonwings2421, Lesalanna, lime juize, sakuravision, Hiyami, prettybirdy979, haakonsson, Maybe-I-Should-Write-Something, Rokuko Kaminari Blaze, imajackal, xkohleyesx, EasyButton, Moonstruck Chocolat, Fullm**__**etal Embers, CSIvHP11, GinnyMastrani, yellow blaze, FairELF, Coles Guardian, smilingT12, Stormraven, Seadrance, CorosiveVile, WolfbainKohaku, spnMom, siltrana, Momma Hexie, NUMB3RS-freakyfreak, Gunner'sDream, CrazyatAlltime, Rosebud in Amber, ralfs, ASP AUS, Daken, apbarium, ****FirePony16, Lightning-sama, DeathOfSanity, Elladee7, strangestnightmare, zero25, Lidil, MadamShinigami, Gottahavemyncis, miscellaneousSam, DaisKuruna, mouzymou, gyrlfrend, MarieThea, 16 midnight roses, camry72. **_**(Let me know if I missed you or if you want your name removed!)**

* * *

_Chapter Twelve: Breaking Free, Breaking Down_

It was late. Tony stalked from the conference room, seething but resigned. The Secretary of the Navy himself had sent orders to the department of NCIS that all ongoing investigations were to be transferred to their area's FBI unit until further notice. They were to "clean house and prove why these rogue members were worth rehabilitating, as opposed to incarcerating." Though this gave Tony and the rest of the team precious, needed time to try and orchestrate a recovery, it was a slap in the face of their honor as an investigative team, basically deeming them unfit to do their jobs.

His heavy, black tail thudded heavily as he collapsed into the Director's chair, and Cynthia soon padded in and sat across from him on the desk.

"Didn't go too well?" she asked with a sympathetic twist to her lips. They were sharing the administrative duties of Director, as Cynthia knew the ins-and-outs of the paper and Tony had the ever-ready confident persona for face to face events.

"No, but at least we'll have time to work on this mess," Tony said, rubbing his eyes under his palms. He looked exhausted, hair and fur dull, eyes ringed with sleepless shadows. Cynthia was not faring much better, but at least she was not trying to lie about how tired she was. Tony insisted that he needed no breaks.

Down at the bullpen, Gibbs was at his desk, arm secure in sling. It was his first day back after what he considered a far too lengthy stay at the hospital. Two whole days was enough to drive Gibbs mad. And on top of that, their cases had been pulled, a necessary but aggravating measure. The entire department was weighted with worry but, with no work to do, they could only mill about uselessly and wait for a development on Timothy or Jenny.

Meanwhile, Abby, bandaged and tired-looking, descended the elevator to the evidence garage to put some things in storage. Fornell's men would be there the next morning to pick up materials from their current cases, and the rest was to be put on the back burner. As Abby stepped from the elevator as it pinged to the dark garage floor, she froze mid-step. Someone was there.

Something in her moved, though, a ferocity to act and control the situation. Twenty feet away, the door to the fenced evidence area was open, and, several aisles back, a figure leapt up in alarm. Abby shot across the space between her and the evidence locker and slammed the door shut before the intruder could get out. It took her a mere heartbeat to enact the locker's security mode, allowing no one in or out for at least 60 minutes, as the lights above kicked on red, instead of the regular fluorescent white, to signal that the area was locked down.

Washed in the red light on the other side of the chain link fencing, Timothy smiled at Abby. His eyes picked apart every detail of her, the injuries, the fear in her expression, the way she leapt back at his appearance.

"Abigail," he said, smooth and dark. "You look ravishing." As she wore work clothes and various bandages, he was merely taunting her.

A tremor went up her arms and spine, but she set her face to an unimpressed neutral. "I know you're not Tim, and the team will be here in no time. Whatever you're trying to do has failed."

"Has it really?" he asked, still softly grinning as he raised his left hand and the gun it held. Fear struck Abby like ice water until she saw it had a gun lock on it. Timothy had gotten the weapon from the evidence locker, where any of the arms contained there were locked for safety purposes. Before, Abby herself had found the measure tedious but was now ever grateful that the protocol was highly enforced. "How long will it take me to pick this lock apart? Five minutes, ten maybe?"

"When backup gets here in 30 seconds, it won't matter," Abby replied, stopping herself from backing away any farther. She would stand her ground. He could not possibly hurt her from where he stood.

The elevator opened with a soft ding, and Tony's arm swept out for a moment as he scanned the room. He yelled, "Clear!" and he, Ziva, and Gibbs stepped out.

"Tony!" Abby called out as she turned to them, relief clear in her voice. She reeled that blatant emotion in, though, and said more coldly, "McGee is trapped in- ah!"

Timothy's hand had shot out from a space between the bars that separated the door from the rest of the fencing and grabbed the upper part of Abby's broken wing near the joint. She screamed and resisted the urge to collapse as pain swamped her senses. The team immediately had their guns raised once more.

"McGee!" Gibbs shouted, padding closer. "Let her go."

Timothy's smile grew. "I don't think you are in a position to make demands, Jethro."

"Don't let me stop you, Gibbs!" Abby managed to say between gritted teeth, but her eyes were alight with fury. She bit back an angry, pained sound as Timothy tightened his grip and pulled her closer.

"Now don't go around giving them ideas such as that, Abigail," Timothy said quietly beside her ear. She shuddered, close enough to feel his breath. "Jethro, my good man, I think we can make a lovely sort of deal here. Unlock this door for me and allow me safe passage away, and I will let Abigail go, unharmed."

Gibbs thought for moment, unmoving, when Timothy jerked suddenly on her wing, eliciting a piercing scream from the injured women. Her chest heaved with shallow breath and her skin had paled as she fought to stand.

"I am not a patient man, Jethro!"

But that did it for Gibbs. He lowered his gun, not defeatedly but confidently, and strode closer.

"Don't give in to him," Abby insisted with nearly a snarl as she swayed and trembled.

Smiling reassuringly, Gibbs stepped closer than Timothy was comfortable with. His black tail bristled. "I'll trade you," Gibbs said. "I can't just let you out of here, so let Abby go and take me instead."

"Boss!" Tony said, unable to hold himself back. "You can't bargain with him- he's insane!"

Despite Tony's insistence, however, Timothy knew he was in a tight situation. He could not go too far with Abby or the real Timothy might surface, and even if they catered to his demands, the team could always take him down as he tried to escape anyway.

Timothy shrugged with a nonchalant smile. "All right, Jethro, I concede. Join me in this locker and leave the gun outside, and I'll let this poor girl go."

The team chorused in protest as Gibbs began to override the security measure. It took an certain amount of time to change the settings to unlock the door, then to get it to go back into security mode once the door closed. He laid his weapon on the deck, and the lights flashed white for as long as Gibbs held the door open.

However, as Gibbs and McGee had held their exchange, Tony and Ziva shared a look. Tony signaled Ziva with a nod towards Abby. She gave the barest nod in return.

They broke into different directions at the same time. Ziva descended onto Timothy's hand with silent, speedy precision, stabbing the knife she had pulled into his forearm and peeling his hand away as he screeched and his fingers spasmed. In that same sweeping movement, Ziva pulled Abby away but lost her knife as Timothy took it with him when he retracted his arm.

"Sorry, boss!" Tony barked as he dove between Gibbs and the door, pushing his boss out of the way and going into the locker while pulling the door shut.

Timothy yanked the protruding weapon from his flesh with a guttural yell and turned on Tony without hesitation. "Nowhere to go, Anthony. One of us will not be leaving this cage alive!" He dove onto the agent, knife raised.

Tony immediately went into fight mode, relying on his years of training to parry the blow and try to remove the knife from Timothy's hand. They bowled over onto the ground, and Tony strained against Timothy's raised arm. His other hand slammed around Tony's throat, and Tony choked, coughing, as he tried to disentangle himself from the enraged onslaught.

"Dinozzo!" Gibbs shouted as the door relocked and the lights flashed red. The two team members thrashed each other, but Timothy was driven by recklessness and ruthlessness, slamming Tony's head against the concrete floor and jabbing the knife in once, to the face, then again, to his chest.

Gibbs was at the key-in pad, and that moment it had taken to reset the controls now seemed an eternity. Only he had the override code that could affect the securest rooms at NCIS, and it took many long heartbeats to unlock the door. Gibbs darted in and laid a solid kick to Timothy that threw him away and dragged Tony out before his attacker could regain his feet. Tony groaned, but once Gibbs had him out the door, the older agent went back into the locker and closed it behind him. The world had flashed white for a moment, but once again the red lights flushed all surfaces with their biting touch.

"Look, Tim, I'm here, what we agreed on. Tony is out. Everything is just how we agreed."

Timothy leapt furiously to his feet, bloody knife brandished and ready. Outside the door, Ziva and Abby helped Tony to his feet. Blood dripped down his face as his hand tried to staunch the flow from his upper chest. The lower blow had grazed him at a steep angle, painful but hardly a flesh wound. The knock against the concrete floor, however, left him dizzy and leaning rather heavily against Ziva.

Within the evidence locker, Timothy seemed to regain composure. He straightened himself up and stepped back to put a safer distance between himself and Gibbs, turning the knife slowly over his fingers. "So here we are, Jethro. I understand that that was not your doing." Timothy looked out evenly at Tony, who panted, blood-covered. "But Jethro, how does it feel, knowing you have failed at retaining one of your closest team members?"

Gibbs seemed to completely ignore the jab. "Tim, it's me. Your friend."

Alarm swept over Timothy's features for a moment, but he quelled it before anyone but Gibbs saw it. "Oh, Jethro, you know as well as I do that those measures are useless."

"C'mon, Tim, I know you're in there. You can hear me, see me. You have to be stronger than it."

The outside force's control visibly faltered for a moment. Blood from the knife began to drip over Timothy's fingers. He stepped back, anger washing over his features, unreal and livid in the red lights. "You cannot fill my mind with your lies, Jethro. I am not one of you."

They began to circle each other as Gibbs tried to come closer and Timothy sidestepped, body tense and ready to fight. Ziva, Tony, and Abby could only watch from the outside, unable to even intervene as Gibbs was the only person who could override the lock down.

"Look around you, Tim. You're being influenced by some force. Not allowed to think your own thoughts. Controlled. The McGee I know would not take that laying down. The McGee I know would fight it."

For moment, Timothy hesitated, but Gibbs saw it, that heartbeat of clarity in his eyes. Just a moment that signaled his efforts were moving something in Timothy's head. Gibbs chased it, leaning in and pressing with, "You see it, don't you? Doesn't it make you mad? Make you want to be free? Tim, I know you're there. I know it!"

Suddenly, Tim was seized by a snarl and bared his teeth, tail lashing. "No, I will when I want to!" he hissed to the voice only he could hear. "I will when the time is right... I do not believe this is how you treat someone you believe should have power!" Tim's eyes darted as if looking into another land in his mind's eyes. Anger made his features even more twisted. "Fine! Take your power, if that is your greatest threat. You can't, can you? You barely know the game you claim to play." Tim staggered, falling to one knee, and he grinned viciously. "That's the most you got? Child's play!" He stood up slowly, muscles twitching as pain lanced up and down his arms and legs.

His team's eyes went round in pain for him. This was the fight they had not been seeing, where the crazed beast was being tempted into servitude with promises of power.

"I don't need you!" Timothy howled at the voice with a shining grin. "You are nothing!" And with silent precision, he slammed Gibbs against the shelves and wrapped his hand around his throat as the team flocked to the fence and shouted. Gibbs grasped at Timothy's hand and tried to speak, not fighting back.

"Tim!" Gibbs choked out, somehow maintaining his composure. "I know- it's hard- but you have to come back to us."

"No," Tim hissed, eyes wide and angry and bright. "I am free! I don't need any of you controlling me, especially you." His voice dripped with venom, and he lifted his bleeding arm that held the knife and thudded the blade into Gibbs' right shoulder. Abby cried out from behind the fence

Gibbs dropped his hand from even trying to hold Timothy back. "We- are- a team. I don't- want to control- you." Gibbs swallowed and still refused to raise his hand. Timothy faltered, unable to process that Gibbs would not fight him.

"Fight me!" Timothy spat and threw Gibbs away from the shelves, wrenching the knife out of his flesh. Gibbs staggered, breathing hard, but merely straightened himself and looked Timothy dead in the eye. Blood began to color Gibbs' shirt.

"I won't, Tim. You don't want to fight me. You need to justify your rage by having me fight you, but I don't want to fight you." Gibbs took a step towards the enraged man, hand out placatingly.

Tony pounded the fence with his fist. "Boss, what are you doing? He'll kill you!"

"Tim," Gibbs said, gentle, eyes seeking his gaze, "I am your friend."

"I have no friends. Only enemies," Timothy growled, teeth grinding, grip tightening on the knife. "Only hate."

Gibbs straightened up, face hardening. "Get a hold of yourself! Look at what you've done to the people who care about you! Look at them." Tim slowly looked at the rank of people behind the fence. Abby, bruised and broken-winged. Tony, leaning heavily on Ziva and bleeding. Gibbs, sporting already a broken arm, the hole in his chest now seeping under the red lights.

Timothy shuddered and crouched away, free hand curling into claws. "Shut up! You don't care about me. None of you. I am alone in this dark hell, so I welcome the freedom this darkness gave. I have been made strong!"

"Stronger than all of us, together?" Gibbs said.

"Stronger than you!" With a snarl, Tim leapt onto Gibbs and wrapped a hand around his throat. The other dragged the blade across his chest, and Gibbs gave a strangled cry of pain.

"Boss!" Tony howled and rattled the door, as they were unable to do anything but watch the attack unfold.

"You always loved Tony more than me, your little golden boy," Timothy hissed, squeezing his hand around the man's throat."Your golden children. I was never one of them!" Timothy crushed Gibbs' broken arm under his hand, and Gibbs, failing to breath, uttered a barely conscious grunt of pain.

"My- friend," Gibbs rasped. He knew Timothy was under there somewhere and that this was the way to find him. "You... gold... son."

Timothy faltered, blinking fast, hands loosening. The wild sheen over his eyes weakened. But then he was seized by the darkness again, angrier this time.

"No! You're tricking me! You're a master of lies, illusions, Gibbs, but you'll never ensnare me." Timothy made to strangle him with both hands, but the pounded door finally drew his attention.

Tony, desperate and dizzy, could now see the power of Gibbs' technique. "Tim!" Tony cried. "Please, Tim, listen to me. You're our friend! We care about you! Look at what you're doing."

Tim looked down slowly, mechanically, at the man beneath him, oozing blood, lips tinged blue. A shudder passed over Timothy.

"Gibbs?" he said, as if it were the first time the word had ever had a meaning.

"Tim," Gibbs whispered, eyes closed, body still.

Timothy started to his feet, backing away and shaking. His expression was trapped between fury and terror. Suddenly, he fell to his knees and howled in agony, head clutched between his hands. The other agents behind the fence balked at the terrible sound. He writhed where he kneeled, panting in exertion and pain.

Ziva pounded her hand against the rattling fence, seeing how he struggled against that which gripped him. "Fight it, Tim! Fight it- you are stronger!" At that, Tony and Abby called out as well.

"We're here for you, Timmy!"

"Come on, man! I know you! You can do this!"

Then, without warning, Timothy groaned in pain and blood dripped from his nose.

"Let me go. Can't I go?" he whispered to the still and quiet air. He gazed up at the ceiling, eyes seeking some invisible force far away. A moment of silence passed, and Timothy gasped in horror. "No, please, no-!" He threw his head back and cried out, then everything about him was still and silent.

His face was twisted in fury. "No, I am alone. You are my enemy." Suddenly, he was at the fence door and his hand shot out to squeeze Tony's throat. "And you. A source of my pain and ridicule," he snarled and squeezed with inhuman strength. "I hate you."

Tony's eyes were bright with pain. "Tim- you're my- friend," he gasped. "I care about you. We love you."

Timothy's face suddenly twisted with utter rage, and he threw Tony away from himself and backed away.

"NO!" Tim howled, stumbling from the wall. "I've attacked you all, wounded you all, taken my revenge! Hate me!" He stared around furiously from face to face. "HATE ME!"

"No," Gibbs rasped from the floor, wet with blood. "I- love you- like a son- Tim. Tim."

"Like a brother!" Tony cried out, pounding the chain link fence under his fist.

"I love you, Timmy," Abby said, tears spilling down her face.

"Don't you see?" Ziva dared to say, quietly, pleadingly. "The darkness drives you mad with paranoia. We all care about you, Tim. No matter what you've done."

"No!" Timothy said and fell to his knees. "There is only hate! Hate!" He sobbed and dropped the knife with a clatter, clawing at his head. He shuddered, ears folded back and tail limp in the blood-spattered dust. A spasm gripped him, and he fell onto the ground, curling up. A cry tore from his lips as the change passed over him.

White flushed up his fur from the roots, leaving them as pristine as the newly fallen snow. He lay limp in the dust, and he whispered unseeingly.

"What have I done? What have I done?"

* * *

**Thank you for reading! It's been a pleasure entertaining you! Please read and review, if you are so inclined. Stay beautiful.**


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